The Once and Future King - leorizanzel (2024)

Chapter 1: Prelude: The Once and Future King

Chapter Text

“You’re not an easy man to find, Mandalorian,” the young man said as he slid next to the bounty hunter at the bar. “You’d think that people would notice a man in full beskar, and yet, everywhere I go I can’t help but find tongues tied. I wonder how that happens.”

“Beats me, wizard,” the Mandalorian scoffed. His fingers twitched imperceptibly in his gloves, gearing up for whatever this strange young man would throw at him next. “Seems like something you should know.”

“I see that you already know who I am,” the young man said, almost as if he expected the response.

“What kind of hunter would I be if I didn’t?”

The man hummed as he motioned to the bartender for a drink. “Gar serim, beroya.”

“Vaabir gar jorhaa'ir Mando'a?”

“Ni jorhaa'ir luubid.”

“How in the hell did you come to learn Mando’a?” the Mandalorian asked. He finally turned his entire body towards the strange young man and gave him his complete attention.

“I figured if my destiny rested with the fate of Mandalore, I should start learning the language,” the young man replied, face serene as the drink finally appeared on the bar. The fluorescent lighting caught his eyes just so, making his irises nearly glow amid the darkness of his hood. It sent a small shiver across the Mandalorian’s shoulders.

The Mandalorian laughed despite himself, a nervous response. “I don’t know if you know this, but Mandalore’s nothing but glass.”

“Oh, how little you know,” the young man chuckled. “Sir, my name is Luke Skywalker, and I am here to ensure you take your rightful place as the King of Mandalore.”

The Mandalorian snorted loudly, the sound coming through his voice modulator as a crackle. “Because I won the laser sword? Here, you can take it.” He pulled the hilt of the Darksaber off his belt and offered it to Luke, not unlike the way he would offer a piece of ration bar. Truth be told, he valued a ration bar far more than he did the sword – as did most pawn shops across the Outer Rim, apparently.

Luke only gave him a smile as he placed a hand over the Mandalorian’s gloved one. “It can only be you, Din Djarin. Come now, let’s get you going; we’re almost running behind as it is.”

Din paused, the mere mention of his real name nearly knocking him back into the nearest barstool. Even his closest allies hadn’t used his name since that day on Nevarro, and whoever the f*ck this guy said he was just used his real name out in a crowded cantina. He slowly dragged his hand from his belt buckle to the blaster in his holster.

“I never gave you my name, wizard. How in the hell…?”

Luke visibly winced. “Oh, I messed it up again. I was supposed to wait until you gave me your name, and it was going to be an entire, y’know, thing. That was very careless of me.”

“You think?” Din spat, choosing not to focus on any of the implications that the wizard’s sheepish admission brought up.

“If you like, we can forget it all and I’ll keep referring to you as ‘Mandalorian’ until you get tired of it.” Luke paused for a moment. “Or better yet, I can keep calling you ‘beroya’, see if that gets a rise out of you.”

If Din had his helmet off, Luke might’ve laughed at Din’s expression at that very moment. He wanted to feel angry – betrayed, somehow – and yet this strange young man with the haunting, far away eyes caught him so completely off-guard that he found himself more curious than anything. He needed to know more, wanted to know more despite himself. At that moment, he decided that he’d listen to whatever the hell it was that Luke Sky-whatever had to say – all else failed, he could fight his way out.

He could at least still do that much.

“By the way,” Luke added, “if you brought a ship out here, we can go ahead and scrap it; I somehow doubt whatever you’re flying will be necessary for what we’re doing.”

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?” Din spat back.

“The same way I know that in three days’ time, we’re going to be on Tatooine and I’m going to feel very uncomfortable, and I’m willing to put myself through what’s going to happen because you and I have a mission,” Luke said as he straightened himself up to his full height.

“That’s not very compelling, wizard.”

“I tell you what - you’re a man of terms and contracts,” Luke stated. “I’m offering you a job. You hear me out and escort me to Tatooine, and if you’re not convinced that I’m telling you the truth, then you can have my ship with no questions asked. I promise, you won’t find a better deal.”

Din mulled it over. He hated to admit it, but the stupid shuttle he’d stolen off the Imperial freighter a month ago simply wasn’t cutting it anymore. A free ship was nothing to turn his nose up at.

“You’ve got a deal,” Din said as he put out his hand. “Let’s see this ship of yours.”

“Are you going to stop calling me ‘wizard’? I already gave you my name,” Luke huffed, a small smile breaking the monk-like façade. “I thought Mandalorians honored names.”

“’Wizard’ will do just fine until you start talking more,” Din shot back. “We’re alone – so talk.”

Din dropped himself down the overly fancy conference room of some f*ck-off large ship that this man in his plain black attire surely wouldn’t be able to afford on his own. He always knew to be cautious, but the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up as Luke guided him to the shipyard from the cantina; he thought at first people wanted to gun for Luke, but once they reached the CR90 Corvette, he realized they wanted to know who had the absolute audacity to bring a Rebel blockade runner to this dirty, backwater planet this far out in the Outer Rim.

He still didn’t discount the possibility that they might come for them later.

“Well, it’s as I said back in the cantina - you’re the heir apparent to the throne of Mandalore, and I’m here to make sure you get it,” Luke said, sitting next to him with the chair turned towards Din’s own seat. “And since you know at least a little something about who I am, you know I wouldn’t be here unless it mattered.”

“Before we begin, will you answer one question?”

“I’m an open book.”

“Do you know who has my son?” Din asked. “When I got wind that some Jedi put out a feeler for me, I got my hopes up that it was the man who took Grogu that day looking for me. If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”

A chill filled the air and Din tightened his fingers in the leather of his gloves. He played the events of that day repeatedly in his mind, the image of his son cradled in the arms of the red-haired Jedi that swept in out of nowhere to rescue them all from their certain doom on board Moff Gideon’s ship. Luke seemed uncomfortable.

“I don’t know who he is, but I’m sure he has the right intentions,” Luke began, his eyes cast down. “I feel your baby’s presence in the Force, and I know he’s doing well. His light’s so bright, Din; you should be proud.”

Din inhaled sharply. “You know where he is?” His heart kicked up a furious pace in his chest.

“I can’t pinpoint him like a tracking fob can; I just feel him out there,” said Luke. He seemed disappointed in his own answer. “We’ll find him later, but first, we need to gather our allies and get going; we’re dangerously close to running behind schedule.”

“’Schedule’? What schedule are you talking about?” Din said, his voice straining to remain steady. He just received the first news of his child in a standard month and this over-excited asshole talking about destinies and fates didn’t seem to care. “You’re talking around me. I only agreed to this fool’s errand as far as Tatooine.”

“It’s no fool’s errand, trust me,” Luke shot back as he stood up from the table and started pacing around the conference room, looking for something among his datapads and flimsi maps. “What do you know of Mandalore?”

“I’ve never set foot on the planet. It’s cursed,” Din said flatly. “Anyone who even approaches the planet dies. Mandalorians live in the shadows now because we have no home. My ally says the Empire reduced it to glass.”

“Imperial propaganda, I assure you,” Luke muttered as he dug through his things. “Aha!”

He pulled out a datastick and found the entry port at the holoprojector terminal, plugging it in and typing a few commands. A slowly-rotating, blue-green hologram burst into light in the center of the conference room table. Din studied the unfamiliar surface, looking for anything like a capitol city or even an established space port, but found nothing.

“This is the latest scan of Mandalore’s surface,” said Luke as he typed something at the terminal and enlarged the hologram further. “I sent some probe droids out there, and they confirmed what I felt - Mandalore isn’t a dead planet. It’s nearly teeming with life and it’s ready to accept her ancestral people back.” Luke pointed excitedly at a portion of the projection. “Look, it’s a forest! The texts say that Mandalore’s forests died almost a thousand years ago with the death of the mythosaurs, and now we have full-grown forests and streams. It’s nothing like I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s lovely,” Din scoffed. “I hardly see what that has to do with me.”

“Din, something shifted in the Force - I can’t tell you what because I don’t really know myself,” Luke said as he slowly made his way back to his chair at Din’s side. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together as though he sought Din’s forgiveness. “But I know this: everything I’ve done so far has led me here, to this moment. We’re on the precipice of something far larger than you or I. The Force guided me here, led me to you, and now I need to take you to where you belong. That’s all I know right now.”

“I don’t belong to any place,” Din snapped. “If you know so much, then you know my covert’s gone and my child…”

“Din, I’m not -“

A pained, sickly look shot across Luke’s face as his focus faded. Din watched as Luke unclasped his hands and brought them up to his face to soothe them over his cheeks. He wondered if Luke had too much to drink and his speech about trees on a dead planet was just the precursor to a horrible hangover.

“You’re not going to hurl on my boots, are you?” Din asked, ready to jump right out of the seat.

“N-no,” Luke ground out. “But I’m going to need you to stay seated.”

“Why?”

“Din, I’m so sorry for what’s about to happen,” Luke gasped. “Trust me, I don’t like it any more than you will.”

“Wizard, what in the hell are you talking about?”

Luke said nothing as he reached his hand towards Din’s wrist, finding the seam of his glove and shoving two fingers into the gap he made; he found Din’s pulse and kept his fingers there. Din tried to pull away, but Luke wouldn’t budge, and Din found himself unable to move as if something else held him to the spot. Din watched in horror as Luke’s head suddenly pitched forward and bowed, his frame slumping down in the seat as though a cruel puppet master cut his strings.

“What the f*ck?” Din whispered. He reached out a hand to Luke’s shoulder to shake him awake. “What kind of trick is this?”

Luke’s head slowly rose, his eyes fluttering and mouth slightly ajar. Suddenly, Luke’s eyelids flew open, radiating an eerie blue light that nearly drowned out his pupils as he focused his gaze back to Din. Din tried harder to pull away from Luke’s grip, but his grip cuffed his wrist completely. Luke’s body went rigid in his seat as he slowly rose to standing. Din found himself doing the same.

“Din Djarin, the Once and Future King,” Luke declared, his voice somehow ringing through Din’s head rather than through his ears. It sounded as though another voice spoke over Luke’s own. This man was Luke Skywalker, and yet, was not. “You wield the Darksaber, won in honorable combat, as Kings of Mandalore before you. The Force commands you to seek the Child and save it from its doom, and in doing so, will save the galaxy and reunite your people under your banner. Do you accept your quest?”

“Luke, you’re scaring me,” Din whispered.

“Should you deny your calling, the galaxy will face its darkest days,” something that sounded like Luke droned. “I will show you the consequences of your inaction.”

The scent of charred corpses and blood-turned-rust creeps past the filters of his helmet and fills his nostrils as he comes to, churning his stomach. He pushes himself up from the ground as he struggles to keep from falling over; the shockwaves of the mortars against the walls of whatever shelter he’s in sends bits of debris plinking softly against his armor. He’s scrambling off the ground and taking off into an open area.

He recognizes the bright spire of the Galactic Republic’s Capitol building and knows he’s in Hanna City, but has no memory of arriving on Chandrila. He keeps running, lungs burning with the effort. Artillery rounds continue to rocket over his head, landing somewhere past the Capitol, but he can tell from the rate of fire that they’re bracketing fire to close in on it. He presses forward, past the strewn, ragdoll bodies of civilians and stormtroopers alike.

Suddenly, the world slows even further as though he’s running underwater, past the dead, past the rubble, and speeds up impossibly as he runs up the stairs into the crumbling Capitol building. He enters the primary Senate chamber to find corpses of senators and kings, each slaughtered carelessly. In the center of the chamber lies the body of Senator Leia Organa, still with child. A dark, faceless presence looms over her body. It doesn’t notice Din standing at the doorway. Until it does.

Another flash strikes behind his eyes. He wakes up again as he stands in some dark laboratory, the astringent in the air making him feel ill. He looks around until he sees the silhouette of his son suspended in some fluid-filled tank, an endless amount of tubes piercing his little, fragile body. His child sleeps in his little prison, completely alone and only clinging onto a thread of life. He feels the vibrations in his throat as he screams and screams with nothing leaving his mouth.

“Din Djarin, you can prevent this tragedy. Seek the Child, seize your throne, save the galaxy,” the voice says, echoing over his perception. “Follow the Light and let it guide you forward.”

The vision left as quickly as it arrived, and it left Din with his chest heaving and sweat dripping down his neck. He felt his legs go out from under him as he fell to his knees before Luke. The Jedi did not move, his fingers still on Din’s wrist.

“This is the future?” he shuddered, voice shaking through the modulator. No matter how many battlefields he stormed across in his life, no amount of fighting ever made looking at mutilated bodies easier. Nothing would ever prepare him for seeing his… his child looking like that.

“Not unless you fail to take your rightful place and bring balance to the Force,” the voice said. “You will not be alone in your journey. You will have many allies that will look to you for leadership and follow you into war. You will also have Luke Skywalker, the last and strongest of the Jedi, at your side as both guide and First Knight. Do you accept your quest?”

“I accept,” Din said, his breath ragged and harsh. He had no choice. “I will take your quest.”

Luke’s hand reached out and caught the Darksaber as it flew from Din’s belt. He ignited the blade and held it above Din’s left shoulder. He moved it in an arc above Din’s helmet and repeated the gesture above his right shoulder. “Rise, Mand’alor the Triumphant,” his voice rang out. “The Force is with you.” Luke’s hand extinguished the saber while the other pulled against Din’s wrist in a bid for him to rise from his position.

As soon as Din stood up, the light in Luke’s eyes dissipated and the young man collapsed in Din’s arms. Din caught him, keeping Luke’s body from crashing into the ground at full force. He stood him up and watched his head loll to the side, eyes fluttering and fighting to stay open. When they finally opened, Din felt a strange wave of relief as Luke’s eyes returned to their natural state.

“Luke, are you alright?” Din asked as he moved Luke to a nearby chair.

Luke’s eyes blinked open as he clutched his stomach. “I feel like a speeder just ran me over,” he gritted out. “I hate that so much. How are you doing?”

“I feel only about half as bad as you look,” Din said, not leaving until he was sure Luke could sit upright on his own. “Stay there, I’ll get some water.”

Luke mumbled out a ‘thank you’ as he laid his head on the table and curled his arms around his face to block out the light. He walked to the galley of the ship and poured a small glass of water for himself, quickly downing it before grabbing another glass for Luke.

When he returned, the young man remained in the place he’d left him. He set the water down in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, you still alive?” Din asked, half-joking.

“Barely,” Luke groaned as he reached for the glass. “Thank you. I’m sorry about freaking you out; it’s not easy for me, either.”

“Were you conscious for… for whatever that was?” Din took his seat next to Luke at the table. “It seemed like you weren’t exactly you – unless you have a penchant for referring to yourself in the third person.”

Luke gave him a small chuckle as he took small sips of the water. “I was fully aware of what was happening, but I had no control over it,” he explained. “That was the living embodiment of the Force – the spiritual connection that flows through all of us and binds us as living creatures together. Most Force-sensitives can only draw upon the Force to manipulate the physical world, some can manipulate minds, and the best of us can pull the energy from around us to create other kinds of energy. There’s no word for what I do, though.” He paused to down the rest of the water. “It’s something that makes me unique, I guess.”

“Does the Force do that to you all the time, or just when it’s a great time to scare the sh*t out of me?” Din said with a bit of a chuff, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

Luke gave him a gentle smile – it was likely the best he could pull off, given the circ*mstances. “Only when the Force deems it important; it doesn’t happen a lot, but I guess you just bring it out of me.” He laughed and slowly stood up to go to the galley. “I’m going to get some more water – would you like anything else while I’m up?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Din said as he carefully watched the man teeter back to the galley.

“And hey, not for nothing,” Luke said as he stopped to clutch at the door jamb, “I finally got you to use my name.”

“Yeah, you may come to regret that,” Din shot back.

“Doubtful,” Luke retorted as he hobbled off.

Once Luke returned with another glass of water, Din guided him over to a chair and checked him over again to make sure some semblance of color returned to his cheeks and the focus returned to his eyes. Luke started laughing quietly as Din tore off a glove and put the back of his hand at Luke’s forehead.

“I thought you hated me, and now look at you,” Luke said around his glass.

Din snorted. “I didn’t appreciate you talking over my head and hustling me along, but I’m willing to forgive you after whatever the hell that was,” he said as he touched at Luke’s lymph nodes. “If I had some… strange, cosmic being in my head all the time, I’d be just as weird as you are.”

Luke slightly leaned into the touch. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it right now,” Din said. “We’ll talk more about it when we get off this sh*thole planet. Right now, can you help me get this thing into orbit? I don’t want to sleep terrestrial if we can help it.”

“What, can’t fly a Corvette-class on your own?” Luke said, a tired laugh behind it.

Din paused. “You can?”

“I can fly anything - it’ll be a lot easier with your help, but yeah, I flew this here all the way from Chandrila.”

Din’s hands fell away from Luke’s throat as he tilted his helmet. “I don’t know how else to ask this: what kind of monster are you?”

“You’re a man that blew up a massive krayt dragon, and you’re asking me about monsters?” Luke said.

“How in the hell…?”

“Right, we’ll talk about that later.”

Chapter 2: Bedivere and Nimue

Chapter Text

Din laid awake in his bunk, staring up at the ceiling as he subtly stretched his limbs until he felt the pleasant pops of his joints. He couldn’t remember the last time he could just lay down and exist, much less stretch out in any reasonable fashion. The mattress conformed to his body as he felt himself sinking deeper into fiber-filled heaven. He never believed in a god, but he would probably knife-fight one if it meant having a bed this nice forever.

Propping himself up on the provided pillow, Din looked around the lavish room and scoffed as he took in his surroundings. The stateroom had an adjoined sitting area for entertaining guests, along with a communications equipment suite for Din’s personal use. The decor – the very idea of sleeping in a place that had decor was a concept in and of itself – looked minimal and tasteful, something someone with class would choose.

He looked completely out of place and felt twice as awkward, but he’d be damned if he gave up this bed for love or money.

Luke told him this ship used to belong to some fancy diplomat, and since Din himself was a head of state, Din should get the best quarters on the ship. Luke wouldn’t hear of any argument otherwise, insisting that he’d be fine sleeping in the captain’s quarters next to the bridge. At first, Din thought he would like the arrangement; he couldn’t remember the last time he had anything resembling a room to himself, especially one with a ceiling that allowed him to stand up without ducking. Now, being so alone with the only other person on the ship so far away, it felt more like a rarefied prison.

He couldn’t bring himself to sleep like this.

Picking up his helmet and slipping it back over his head, Din left the diplomat quarters and headed down the stairs and onto the main deck. He turned right towards the bridge, hoping to catch Luke at the controls, but only the familiar sight of hyperspace light and the eerie hum of the Corvette’s engines greeted him. Din turned heel and went down the narrow staircase to the captain’s quarters; he knocked on the door.

“Just a sec!” Luke’s voice shouted through the door.

Din waited, listening while Luke shuffled around the room. The door opened to Luke standing at the door, half-dressed in some sort of tunic and looking completely out of it. He looked a far sight more vulnerable, more human, than he did in the cantina just a few hours ago.

“I’m sorry,” Din said. “I thought you might still be awake. I can come back another time.”

Luke waved him off. “You’re fine. You were thinking pretty loud, anyway.”

“Excuse me?”

“We should talk,” Luke said with a shrug. “Want to come in? I have this tea I picked up in Stewjon that tastes like whatever you want; if you have a specific flavor in mind, it recreates it like you’re drinking the real thing.”

“Can it taste like spotchka?” Din asked.

“Haven’t tried that, but I certainly don’t see why not,” Luke said. “I don’t see why you’d want to; you wouldn’t get drunk. Think the weirdest thing I’ve managed to think of is blue milk – tasted like it, but the texture was all wrong.” His nose wrinkled in apparent disgust. “Had to throw the whole cup out. Anyway, I can have some ready for you if you’d like some.”

Luke stepped aside and gestured to welcome him into the spacious room. Din wondered, and not for the first time, if Luke talked constantly to fill the void or if he was nervous about something.

“Well, let me get the tea started; I told you I owed you some answers, anyway,” Luke said.

Din sat down at the small table in the middle of the room and placed his hands on the table, watching as Luke fussed over a small hot water kettle and a couple of small ceramic cups. He looked on with mild interest as Luke filled the cups with hot water and, with a gentle gesture, sent them gently flying to the table with practiced ease. Luke returned to the table with a jar and spoons in hand, setting a spoon in each cup and opening up the jar to dump a little bit of the tea leaves in each cup.

“Let those steep for a little bit before trying it,” said Luke as he snapped the lid back onto the jar. “Not sure how it works, but I think you’ll like the results, anyway.”

“I’m sure,” Din said. “Now, you have something to explain.”

Luke cleared his throat. “In possibly the weirdest way I can say this, I saw you in my dreams,” he began.

A laugh crackled through Din’s modulator. “I’ve had people flirt with me before, but you’re certainly the most direct.”

Luke laughed loudly at that, fingers curled tight over his teacup. “Well, you’re the one that came into my room, so I guess we’re even.” He sighed as he came down from his fit.

“What kind of dreams?” Din asked.

Luke nodded, straightening up his posture as he schooled his features into something more serious. “A couple years back, the Force began sending me visions of a strange Mandalorian in beat-up durasteel armor as he made his way across the galaxy. At first, the visions came in flashes – little stolen moments in time, just enough to get a sense of you. I had no idea what to make of them; I kinda thought you were just a figment of my imagination. Maybe I saw a Mandalorian somewhere, and my subconscious just filled in the details about you. Out of sheer curiosity, I began finding what texts I could about Mandalore and her people – on the off chance that maybe, I could figure out why I had dreams about a mysterious Mandalorian whose face I never saw.”

“That’s when you taught yourself Mando’a?” Din interjected.

“Correct – it’s a very easy language to learn,” Luke said with a small smile. “I hope I didn’t sound too horrible; I had a protocol droid teach me, but it’s not the same as listening to a native speaker.”

Din huffed out a slightly startled laugh. If anything, Luke’s Mando’a sounded better than his own – he hardly ever used it, especially not anywhere outside the Tribe. Even if he found other, unarmored Mandalorians, he’d never compromise their identity with using the language of his scattered people in public.

Secrecy is our strength, he recalled, our strength is survival.

“You sounded fine,” Din said, “but I would caution you not to use it in public again. It’s not exactly safe to be a Mandalorian these days.”

“Got it,” Luke said. “I’ll be more careful. I wasn’t really thinking, I suppose; I just wanted you to trust me.”

“You make it hard not to trust you,” Din shrugged. “I was leery, but I don’t know. You’re earnest. That’s rare out here.”

Luke beamed. “Well, that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me yet.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it,” Din said. “Besides, after what I experienced, I can’t exactly afford to not trust you.”

“I’m still sorry about that, by the way,” said Luke as he skated a finger around the rim of his cup. “Still wish that hadn’t happened. But we’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

“So, when did you get this… prophecy thing?” Din asked.

“The visions of you came and went; however, in the last few months, the visions became clearer. I suppose that’s due in large part to young Grogu,” Luke explained. “I watched as Grogu regained his access to the Force. I also watched the two of you escape some of the most harrowing situations. There were a few times I almost tried to find you, but I had no idea where you were or how to get there, except for when you faced the krayt dragon. I’m sure you probably already know this, but you were absolutely insane for that one.”

Din’s fingers twitched in an approximation of a wince. “Not my finest moment. Took hours to clean krayt ichor out of my armor.”

“Are you kidding? It was amazing!” Luke said, joy practically bouncing off him. “Did you manage to get a pearl?”

“No, just some meat.”

“Shame,” Luke huffed. “Always wanted to make a lightsaber with a krayt pearl core.”

Din wasn’t sure what that meant, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“So, you’ve seen just about everything important, huh?” Din asked.

“That’s right,” Luke said. “And that’s how I learned about your name and I saw your face as you said goodbye to your son.”

Din immediately felt himself go numb. He fought the initial urge to just stand up and leave, but he immediately remembered Luke falling limp into his arms. He let the feeling go. Logically, he knew it made sense that Luke would know these things, but it didn’t make him feel any better about it. He didn’t exactly care that some omniscient being with magical powers could do whatever it wanted, it didn’t give it the right to give anyone it chose wholesale access to his life .

Then again, how could he possibly feel like the Force wronged him when he looked at Luke and saw how deep the dark circles ran under his eyes?

Taking a deep sigh, Din slowly unlatched the seal on his helmet and tried not to panic as the hiss of the seal echoed out into the air. In one smooth motion, he committed to the act and lifted the helmet; he gently sat it on the table and pushed his cowl back off his hair. It occurred to Din that he shouldn’t still feel so emotional about it, and yet, the shame still crawled up his throat and gagged him.

Din looked at Luke’s face without the filter of the helmet’s visor and caught himself staring at the sheer intensity of the blue in Luke’s eyes – he wondered if the Force made his eyes glow like that all the time, or if that was just Luke. Maybe he could be alright without the helmet, even if it’s just for a little bit.

“Thank you for trusting me, Din,” Luke murmured, his eyes immediately looking down. Din wondered if it was Luke’s attempt to still show respect for his Creed. “I may not know, but I understand how much this means to you. If this is too much, I understand that, too.”

“It doesn’t really matter much now, does it?” Din shook his head. “I broke my Creed a long time ago; might as well just keep it off at this point.”

Luke frowned. “It matters to me. If you don’t want to remove your helmet, you don’t have to – I only offered because I figured trust demanded honesty. I felt I owed it to you to tell you the truth; I would hate you to think I kept something like that from you. I apologize for offending you.”

Din looked down at the steam curling over his cup of tea and sniffed at nothing. He hated the very idea of feeling vulnerable in any way, but here he was, talking to this man that probably knew him better than himself at this point, with no physical barrier between them. It made his skin crawl.

He also knew it wasn’t fair to Luke to snap at him for something that he couldn’t possibly understand. In the month since he let his son go with the red – haired Jedi, Din kept playing his vows over and over again in his head, wondering if someone out there knew he broke them and would come to take his armor. So far, no one had. Perhaps he could continue to wear his armor like nothing ever happened, but he knew, and it felt like someone had him strapped into a crane and slowly dipped him into the galaxy’s slowest-acting acid.

He wanted to slam his helmet back onto his head and find a hole to hide in for a solid year.

“Look, if anyone should be sorry, it’s me,” Din sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “If we’re being honest right now, I don’t think I’m handling any of this business well.” He thought that might be an understatement, but he kept that to himself.

“But of course,” Luke said. “I suppose I’d act the same were I in your shoes.” Luke tapped his spoon on the edge of the cup. “Try the tea – set an intention in your mind of what you’d like the tea to taste like, and you’ll have it. I usually think of lavender tea with Vashkan honey and mint, if that helps. It might make you feel better.”

Din didn’t think he’d ever had Vashkan honey, but he could think of the spiced tea one of the elders in the Tribe would make for the foundlings of the covert, and the modulated tones of the elder’s voice as he wove stories out of the steam rising from the large cauldron. With that memory in mind, Din gently brought the steaming cup to his lips. A flood of cinnamon, cloves, and other spices he could never quite place but remained in his mind just the same hit his tongue; he nearly dropped the cup in surprise.

“Wild, right?” Luke laughed. “Hard to believe this stuff just grows somewhere.”

Din hummed, letting the tea settle his nerves as he sank into the familiar feeling of something that felt like home. He hated to admit it, but Luke was right – he did feel a little better. “So, how did you figure out where I was? What schedule were you going on about?”

“Alright, this next part’s going to be, like, beyond the pale. If you’re having a hard time with the dreams, you’re not going to like what I’m going to say next.”

“I’m already here,” Din said with a wave.

In for a credit, in for a pound.

Luke sighed deeply. “The ghosts of my old masters, including my father, came to me and gave me explicit instructions on what those dreams meant. They told me how to find you, and gave me the same dire warning you received. They gave me a ton of detail, so I wrote notes; I have places and times for the big events, but I don’t really know the names of the people we’re meeting, and I don’t exactly know what’s going to happen at these places. An itinerary where we’re filling in the blanks, if you will.”

“Well, that might as well be true. It’s not any more insane than watching your eyes glow from the inside, really,” said Din as he took another sip of the tea.

“Now that I think about it, maybe it was for the best that the vision happened when it did,” Luke said with a bit of a snide laugh. “I guess it made everything else look simple in comparison.”

Din wrapped his hands around the cup and let the heat sink into his skin through the leather of his gloves. His thoughts drifted to memories of drinking hot broth with his son in the cargo hold of the Razor Crest. He could still feel the small pricks of the sewing needle stabbing his thumb when he got too careless with yet another stitch in a vain attempt to fix Grogu’s clothing. A laugh threatened to bubble up in Din’s chest thinking about the time he explained, in exhaustive detail, how to disassemble an IB-94 blaster pistol while the kid just looked on in awe and grabbed at each shiny piece.

Now, Din found himself sitting across from a man that piloted a Corvette-class ship entirely on his own, riding off into some magical destiny he never once asked for. Nothing ever would be simple again, he thought with all the bitterness he could muster.

“You’re thinking very loudly again,” Luke said with a soft smile. “We can always come back to this later; we still have a couple days to go before we reach Tatooine.”

“No,” Din said, shaking his head. “Can’t sleep. All of this makes me… think too loudly , as you put it.” He paused. “Do you literally hear my thoughts?”

Can you hear how much I hate having you in my head? Din thought as he tried to make the words in his mind as loud as possible.

“No, but I can sense strong emotions,” Luke replied. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but somehow I feel like you’re not exactly happy with me; it doesn’t take a mind-reader to know you’re not comfortable with a stranger being this close to you.”

Din hummed as he took another sip of his tea.

“Well, I can make myself not a stranger,” Luke said around his own cup. “My name’s Luke Skywalker, I’m twenty-eight years old and I’m originally from Tatooine, so this is a little bit like going home for me. I have a twin sister, Leia Organa, and she’s married to my best friend. They’re having a baby soon. I like spicy foods and I hate long, awkward silences. I fought in the Rebellion five years ago; I fought in both the Battle of Yavin and the Battle of Endor. Anything else you’d like to know?”

Din’s mind raced as the vivid images of the Force vision rushed back to him. He swallowed, feeling his mouth go dry.

“Luke, that woman on the Senate floor, from the vision – was that your sister?”

“Yes.”

“How many times have you had to see your sister die in front of you?”

“More times than I care to think about.”

“f*ck.”

“As much as I care about your son – and I do – I have a lot of skin in this game, too,” Luke said, voice steeling into something harder than Din figured Luke had in him. “I love the idea of restoring Mandalore and bringing your people home. I want to save your son. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to set things right. I just want you to know that this is personal for me, too.”

Din nodded. “I understand. So, where does the ghost itinerary take us first?”

“I have a feeling you won’t stop calling it that, especially if I asked you not to,” Luke scoffed. “Oddly enough, the first place we’re going is Jabba the Hutt’s palace out in the North Dune Sea. Is that meaningful to you at all?”

“An ally lives there now,” Din shrugged. “Boba Fett runs the place with his partner, Fennec Shand.”

Luke looked pale. “Fett’s not dead?”

“Was he supposed to be?” Din asked as he sipped at the tea. “This is seriously good stuff, by the way; I may steal your tea jar.”

“It’s a long story, but yeah,” Luke sighed. “I guess I have a lot more explaining to do.”

“We’ve got three days, wizard.”

“Hey!”

As they began the final approach to their destination, Luke decided it was time to recount his ignominious run-in with Boba Fett. He took his time explaining every bit of backstory necessary and spared virtually no detail. Once Luke reached the end of his story, Din laughed for three solid minutes – probably the best laugh he’d had in years.

“You’re telling me that some half-blind smuggler waved a stick around and managed to hit Boba Fett’s jetpack just right, and it launched him straight into the Great Pit of Carkoon?” Din asked, struggling to keep his voice steady. “That’s f*cking rich.”

“Well, it’s the truth,” Luke said with a shrug. “Believe it or not, it doesn't matter to me. Just know that that’s likely going to come up when we get there. That, and my sister killing Jabba, but that might be a good thing.”

Din reared back and co*cked his head in disbelief. “Your sister’s the Huttslayer?”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “You hardly knew what a Jedi was before you met your son, and yet you know Leia Organa?”

“Everyone knows about the woman that killed Jabba the Hutt and lived to tell the tale,” Din snorted. “She’d be a much better companion than me if you’re going to Tatooine.”

“Well, she’s a senator. And very pregnant,” Luke shrugged. “She commed yesterday to complain about her ankles and was upset I wasn’t there to make her soup.”

“Doesn’t she have a husband for that?” Din asked.

“She says she prefers my cooking,” Luke said with a shrug. “I try not to argue with a heavily pregnant woman.”

“Smart.”

The nav computer sounded the alarm for an impending drop from hyperspace, sending both men scrambling for the pilot’s seats. Right as they settled in the seats, the ship dropped out of hyperspace and right outside of the Tatooinian atmosphere. Din thought that the drop might throw them through the cabin due to the sheer size of the ship, but he hardly felt anything from the sudden deceleration.

“How does a ship this big handle drops better than a gunship?” Din asked as he ran a reverent hand over the ship’s control panel. He used to think he missed the Razor Crest, but a drop like that likely would’ve popped a turbine off.

“It’s a blockade runner, but this particular ship was an Alderaanian royal special,” Luke explained. “She’s built for comfort. I felt kinda bad borrowing something this big, but Leia insisted I take her.”

“I’ll have to thank your sister personally,” said Din as he stood up from the seat. “Might even buy it off her once this whole thing’s over with, if she doesn’t need it anymore.”

“You want to buy the Tantive IV ?” Luke asked, thoroughly amused. “Might be a hard sell, but she might be alright with knowing it’s going to another head of state. It’s even got a docking station for smaller ships, if you wanted to use it as a flagship.”

“A flagship?”

“The newly reformed Mandalore would have a defense fleet eventually, right?” Luke asked as he swept through the bridge. Din followed after him. “Having a ship that saw service during the Rebellion would certainly give you some historical credence.”

Din sighed deeply. He knew how to fight in bars, he knew how to fight in alleyways, but he never had to think about something like large-scale tactics or fleet operations. How would he be expected to source ships and people for such a thing? Wasn’t that what admirals were for, anyway? How would a formerly dead planet with no real population fund an entire fleet of ships? Fuel was expensive for one f*cking ship, much less… how many ships were in a fleet again?

“Stop worrying so much about something that hasn’t happened yet,” Luke said. “Your anxiety’s rolling off you in waves. You’re physically painful to be around right now.”

Din snorted. “Well, I’m sorry for offending your delicate sensibilities, Master Jedi.”

“Oh, please,” Luke scoffed. “I’m telling you this so you don’t stress out so much. Just take everything one day at a time – as a king you’ll have advisers and generals and more people working for you than you can even imagine. Don’t sweat the details; you’re supposed to be more of a… a big picture sorta person.”

“What does that mean?” Din asked, continuing to follow Luke through the large corridors leading to the back of the ship.

“Well, a head of state – a king, president, chancellor, whatever – doesn’t ever work out details of a plan. They come up with an endstate, some sort of broad policy or goal. All the people that work for you figure out how to execute it,” Luke explained. “A government’s really the same as a military operation, at the end of the day. I don’t know if you ever had experience in a formal military setting, but it’s the same concept.”

Din raised an eyebrow. “And you have?”

Luke stopped dead in his tracks. “Commander Luke Skywalker of Rogue Squadron, Rebel Starfighter Corps at your service,” he said as he stuck his hand out in a mock greeting.

“Smartass.”

“Dumbass.”

Din shoved Luke’s shoulder with an eyeroll that would make Leia Organa jealous.

Luke chuckled as he shoved his shoulder into Din’s arm in return. “It’ll all work out, Din – and if it doesn’t, we’ll all die and we won’t really know the difference.”

“Sounds like something I would say,” said Din as he continued walking.

“Then start believing it,” Luke shot back.

Din wanted to tell him that that was far easier said than done, but maybe Luke had a point.

Luke stopped at another room and beckoned for Din to wait for him out in the hall. He returned a moment later with a small, rough-hewn box that Din thought looked better at the bottom of a trash heap instead of in Luke’s hands. Looking at the damaged clasp and already-splintering wood, Din hoped Luke didn’t spend any money on the thing.

“What the hell is that?”

“Something I nearly died to get,” Luke said as he fished out a cloth and wrapped it around the box, ostensibly to keep it from disintegrating any further. “It’s a gift for our host – I wasn’t sure at the time why I had to go get these, but after our discussion earlier, it clicked for me. Glad I went through the trouble.”

“Can I see what it is?” Din asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I would let you see it, but then you might ruin the presentation – it has to be a surprise,” Luke said. “It’s not every day you get to do something like this.”

“So much for total honesty.”

“I’m not lying to you!” Luke protested with a squawk. “Besides, I want you to experience the drama, too.”

“Fine,” Din said. “Keep your secrets, wizard.”

“Now you’re just being hurtful, but I’m letting it go because you’re nervous,” said Luke as he tucked the wrapped box into a bag. “What’s really going on here?”

His insides twisted at the very idea of continuing to be so vulnerable, but he didn’t really have a choice at the moment. Honesty was a two-way street.

“If I accept what you’re saying as true, and my job’s just to delegate and kiss ass while I’m at it, I don’t know how to do that,” Din admitted. “I’m a warrior, not a diplomat. Most negotiations I’ve done were at the end of a barrel. Sometimes a knife, if things got too hairy.”

Luke nodded thoughtfully. “That’s not too far off, really. Think of it the same way, but you’re not wielding a blaster, you’re wielding an army. I know you don’t have an army, but that’s coming. Statecraft largely relies on underlying threats and promises of violence. Just think on that scale, and I think you’ve got it.”

“We can’t afford to mess this up, then,” Din said. “Do we get do-overs if I fail?”

“You’re already friends with Boba Fett, right?” Luke asked. “Just be yourself; I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Din sighed. “Do you want me to be myself, or do you want me to be a king? Can’t be both.”

“Of course you can,” Luke shrugged. “The way I see it, real leadership isn’t inherited, it’s earned. You come into it on your own and make it what you want it to be. Besides, what Mandalorian do you know that rescued a child in danger, blew up a krayt dragon, and defeated the very man that tore Mandalore asunder?”

“That’s just something that had to be done,” Din replied, sheepish and feeling quite ashamed of it. “Anyone could’ve done that.”

“While I don’t think that’s true, even if it was, no one else did ,” Luke said. “That initiative, that drive? Your sense of duty to your clan and your allies? That’s all you.”

“Just happy accidents,” said Din as he looked down at the helmet still in his hands, the beskar feeling heavier than it ever had before. “Right place, right time. Maybe someone that never broke the Creed would’ve done it better. Someone more Mandalorian than me.”

Luke shook his head. “Din, there’s no possible way anyone could be more Mandalorian than you, not even f*cking Bo-Katan Kryze or whoever. Anyways, I don’t believe in accidents – that sword belongs in your hands for a reason.”

“Seemed like an accident,” Din muttered.

“It wasn’t an accident that I met you,” Luke said.

He tipped his head down to try and catch Din’s eyes again. Din met Luke’s shockingly bright blues and felt himself pulled into the moment.

“I’m glad to be here with you,” said Luke, “no matter how this turns out.”

“Sure you wouldn’t be better off assisting literally anyone else on this fool’s errand?” Din said with a mirthless chuckle. He had no idea why someone like Luke wanted to be here – surely someone like him could find some place better to be than Tatooine of all places – but it felt like a cold comfort, anyway. “Did the Force have a backup option?”

“I said it before – it can only be you, Din Djarin,” Luke replied. “Regardless of the prophecy, only someone like you could face what’s to come.”

“Not very comforting there,” Din shot back.

“Well, I would never lie to you,” said Luke. “We don’t have an easy road ahead, but you’re more than enough to face it. You will not be alone, either.”

“Even if I’m a sorry-ass excuse for royalty?” Din scoffed. “I don’t even know anything about galas or what fork goes where on a table.”

“You are whatever a king has always meant,” Luke said as he placed his hands on both of Din’s shoulders, “and whatever a king may be will always be you.”

Din smiled despite himself. “Sounds like some mystical Jedi bullsh*t.”

“It might be, but I’d never tell you if it was,” Luke laughed, wrinkling his nose at the same time. “Now, let’s get going – we’ve got a crime lord to woo.”

“Lord Fett, I present to you the Mand’alor, Din Djarin and Jedi Master Luke Skywalker,” the major domo announced as Din and Luke made their way down the steps leading into the throne room.

Din appreciated the reprieve that the darkened, subterranean room gave them from the desert heat – he could feel the sweat on the back of his neck rapidly cooling – but he couldn’t help but feel anxious as he took a quick assessment of the room. He hated that the sole entrance and exit was a giant tunnel with no doors, and the large grate in the middle of the floor made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. Of all the no-win tactical scenarios he could imagine, fighting their way out of a basem*nt stood chief amongst them.

He figured he would be able to shield Luke for a moment if someone started firing, but then he’d have to rely on Luke to take over the offense. It occurred to Din at that moment that he’d never actually watched Luke fight. Surely, a master Jedi could fight when needed.

Surely.

He took notice of Fennec Shand standing at Boba’s back and gave her a short nod in greeting. She gave him one in turn, which eased Din’s anxiety just slightly. He took a deep breath – Boba Fett and Fennec Shand were allies, and would not try to murder them where they stood. They would be fine . Din stood up a little straighter and tried to project whatever image a visiting king would present, and braced himself for whatever would happen next.

“Good to see you amongst the living, Djarin,” Boba bellowed across the room. “Lost contact with you after that run-in with that old rat bastard, so I wasn’t all that sure.”

“I see you’ve done well for yourself,” Din replied. “My compliments on the interior design – must’ve been a real bitch to clean up all the slug slime. Doesn’t smell like the wrong end of a bantha in here anymore.”

Luke snorted a stifled laugh beside him.

Boba began laughing himself, settling a hand on his own chest. “Goddamn it, Djarin,” he said between gasps. “This is why I like you.”

“Thought it was my good looks.”

“Go f*ck yourself,” Boba chuckled. “I take back what I said, you’re an ass.”

Din shrugged. “I’m sure all the people we invited to the wedding will be very disappointed. We’ll have to return the gifts.”

Even Fennec laughed at that one. Maybe he couldn’t do the whole king thing very well, but he could be a snarky asshole – and maybe that was the cornerstone of his diplomatic policy. Something like that.

“So, I hear congratulations are in order,” Boba said as he finally calmed his breathing down and sat up just a little straighter in his throne. “You inherited a dead planet made of glass and sorrow. I’m thrilled for you.”

“Not dead,” Din said. “I guess it was just sleeping. Or something.”

Din chastised himself; it wasn’t exactly a royal sort of answer.

“And I suppose your associate there knows more about it than you do,” said Boba. “Let’s get on with it, I’ve got important sh*t to do.”

Din turned to Luke as he stood ramrod straight, his hands holding the wrapped-up box in his typical serene, monk – like manner. Din could tell, however, that Luke looked like he’d rather bury himself up to his head in the sand and let the anoobas get him than move from his spot. He followed Luke’s line of sight to the strange grate in the center of the room.

“Don’t know why you’re so worried, Skywalker,” Boba said, voice dripping with condescension. “You killed that bastard the last time you were here, so you of all people should know that pit’s empty. Besides, you’re an honored guest of the Mand’alor – you’re safe under this roof.”

Din caught the slight roll of Luke’s shoulders under his heavy robes, noticeable only with the delicate shift of the light streaming through a small window. Luke mentioned falling into a rancor’s pit, but it didn’t occur to him that the pit would be right here.

“I certainly appreciate your assurances,” Luke began. “I want to establish a better relationship, and hopefully put all our… differences behind us.”

A loud, rude scoff cut through the air like a blade. “You think you can come into my place, after what you and your f*cking friends did, and expect things to be alright?” Boba snarled. “Did you expect me to just forget what happened? All that pain, all that time lost?”

“No, not at all. I – “

“Well, you should’ve, because I did,” Boba said with a wave. He eased himself down into his seat, lounging back into the stone and leaning up against one arm of the chair. “We’re square.”

Silence filled the room.

“Forgive me, Lord Fett – I don’t understand,” Luke said quietly.

“It’s real simple,” said Boba as he beckoned across the room to a servant. “I won’t lie, I was horrifically angry. For the longest time, I thought of nothing but revenge. Not necessarily against you, but certainly your friend Solo. That anger allowed me to fight my way out of the belly of that beast and do whatever it took to survive. It fueled me to get my armor back, and it landed me in this seat. I thank that anger for giving me a chance to survive.

“That all being said, it’s served its usefulness,” Boba continued. “I’m letting it go. I’m getting old and anger just gives me ulcers now. Besides, a Mandalorian never begrudges another warrior for winning a fight. I paid the price for the mistake of getting in bed with the Hutts.” He paused to turn his attention to the servant that stood at the side of his throne, holding out a proffered tray. He took the cup from the tray and thanked the servant with a curt nod. “But now, I’ve got a palace and a pretty decent set-up here. I can’t be that mad about it.”

“I’m honored,” Luke said with a perfunctory bow. “Regardless, I brought you a gift – call it reconciliation, if you will. I searched for these all over the Outer Rim until I ended up on Batuu, where I found these on display above a bar. I bartered, negotiated, and then fought my way out of a pirate’s den for these.” Luke held up the box in front of him as he crossed the distance to Boba’s throne. “But, if reconciliation isn’t necessary, please accept this as a token of friendship.”

Boba stood up from his chair and took the box from Luke’s hands. Pulling a vibroblade from his belt, he cut away at the cloth wrapping until the shabby wooden box remained. Slowly, Boba opened the box and stared at its contents for a long, arduous moment.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Luke nodded. “These are the daggers of Jaster Mereel, back in the hands of their rightful heir. I had a friend analyze the metal to make sure I got the real deal. These blades came from a master Mandalorian smith renowned for creating ‘pirun beskar’, or watered iron. These are works of art.”

Din watched as Boba slowly pulled one of the knives out of the box, holding it up to let the soft torchlight around the room glint off its surface. The swirling pattern of dark metal flowing softly over the dagger caught the light, looking just like water frozen in time. Boba tapped the edge of it against his breastplate and let the pleasant tone resonate throughout the throne room. Din smiled despite himself; bringing beskar back to its ancestral owners always made pride thrum deep in his chest. He made a note to thank Luke himself later – both for the gesture and for the reveal.

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” Boba said lowly. “You honor my family.”

“It was an honor to right a deep wrong,” Luke said with another bow. “May these daggers cut down anything that stands in your way.”

“They’re beautiful,” Fennec added. “Real nice gift, Skywalker.”

“Now, what do you want?” Boba asked as he packed the dagger back into the box. “Not to break up the love fest, but you didn’t just come here to give me my grandfather’s knives.”

Luke stepped away from the dais. “In short? We need your help in taking back Mandalore.”

“Bullsh*t,” Boba said with a bit of a laugh. “Ain’t no way I’m doing sh*t for a glass planet. No offense, Djarin – you’re an ally and a friend, but I’m not leaving out of here for a lost cause.”

Luke held up his hands in a placating manner. “I totally understand, but please give me a few minutes of your time and a computer – preferably in a place where there aren’t as many ears.”

“You’ll want to hear what he has to say,” Din cut in. “It’s pretty important.”

Boba hummed deeply. “I suppose I can do that much. Follow me,” he said as he stood up and walked off the dais. “Fenn, you might as well come – I have a feeling you’ll want to know about this, too.”

“Thank you, Lord Fett,” Luke said.

“Cut it out with the title sh*t already,” Boba huffed. “We’re past formalities now. Hope you brought your appetite; I hired a local lady from the nearest town that makes tiingilar that will rip wax off a ship.”

“And that’s the long and short of it,” Luke said as he sat back down in front of his rapidly cooling stew. “It’s a lot to take in at once, I know.”

Din snapped back into the conversation, having heard Luke’s speech and all the supplementary information repeatedly over the last few days and tuning himself out while he leaned back in the chair of a conference room that, if Din had to guess, never once saw use during Jabba’s reign.

Din had his helmet off yet again, and it bothered him more and more that it wasn’t bothering him. Looking over to Boba, who also had his helmet off while eating, he wondered, for perhaps the twentieth time that day, if this was the norm.

Din made a note to have a full breakdown about his religious identity in private, preferably on his extremely comfortable bed.

“That was certainly a lot,” Fennec said between bites of japoor bread. “But thinking about this from a non-magical, practical standpoint – if we help you establish Mandalore again, that would open up the planet to some much-needed trade. An ally against any Hutt Council leftovers trying to get this place back wouldn’t be a bad idea, either. As long as Bo here agrees, I’m down for it.”

Boba tore a piece of japoor apart before dunking it into his stew. “I don’t know if I can believe all that Force sh*t – no offense meant – but I trust that you did your research. Having a strong Mandalore again would certainly improve sh*t out here in the Outer Rim.”

“I agree,” Luke said. “Bringing back Mandalore, with a strong Mandalorian king as someone other Mandalorians can rally around, would balance things out. I never grew up during a time when we had a planet like Mandalore out here.” He paused to take a large spoonful of his own bowl of stew. “Maybe things will be better for a place like Tatooine.”

Din put his hand on Luke’s arm to slow him down. “Luke, I’d think twice about that stew; at least have some rice or bread with it. Even I’m feeling it.” He could still feel the hetikles long after he’d finished his own bowl.

“Let him figure it out the hard way, Djarin,” Boba said.

“I can handle it,” said Luke as he downed his bite.

Both Din and Boba watched in mild fascination as Luke chewed, swallowed, and then tucked right back into the food without pause.

“Food’s good,” Luke said around another bite. “Thought you said this would strip wax off a ship – might clear your sinuses out from a cold, maybe. Still tasty, though.”

“…This isn’t spicy enough for you?” Din asked, incredulous.

Luke shrugged. “I’ve had worse, is all. My aunt used to make this sauce for bantha meat that once made an off-worlder cry. I wish I still had that recipe. We had to throw out the pot she used to make it in because the sauce ate through the enamel.”

“If this all works out and we get Mandalore back to where it was, I’d feel sorry for any Mandalorian cook that would try to make food for you,” Boba snorted. “Gods forbid you marry a Mandalorian.”

Luke choked on his stew.

“So, we’re going to go around the galaxy and collect allies? Are we expecting a fight on Mandalore?” Boba asked, ignoring Luke’s sputtering.

“We figure that if we know that Mandalore’s no longer dead, the remnants of the Empire already know, as well,” Din answered. “The Empire valued Mandalore for its beskar, and I’m sure that if the planet can sustain life again, it can certainly act as a new base of operations. I’d put money on it.”

“The Empire still has a presence out here, whether we like it or not,” Luke affirmed, voice still raspy. “Mandalore also already has infrastructure in cities like Keldabe and Sundari; it wouldn’t take much to get them up and running with Imperial technology. Like roaches, they’re used to building nests out of nothing; having an abandoned city would take them hardly a week to get fully established.”

“We’re going to need all the assistance we can get,” Din added.

“Do you need us right now?” asked Boba. “We’re still getting things established here, and I don’t know if showing my mug will help you with any sort of diplomatic nonsense.”

“No, you’d be on standby until we sent the call out. No need to pull you from your roles here in the palace,” Din said.

“I don’t know, Bo; doesn’t feel right letting these two go tearing through the galaxy without some backup,” Fennec added. “Especially if the Empire gets wind of what you’re trying. Or some other bounty hunter tries to collect Rogue Leader’s head.”

Din sat up a little straighter. “Who?”

“You don’t know that your companion there has a million credits on his name?” Fennec chuckled. “I mean, it’s an old bounty and I don’t know who’d pay it, but it’s still out there. Something about blowing up two large Empire bases or whatever.”

All eyes turned to Luke, who froze as he scraped the last of the stew from his bowl.

“…I’m not sorry for anything, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Luke said.

“We may need the backup,” Din relented.

“Give us a few days, and we’ll get back to you on the details,” Boba said. “You’re welcome to stay here, if you like; we cleaned out most of the rooms.”

“Thank you for your generosity, truly – but we have somewhere to be tomorrow,” Luke replied. “Anyone here ever heard of Mos Pelgo? I grew up in Anchorhead and I’ve never heard of it before.”

Din groaned. “Yeah, I know where it is.”

Chapter 3: Galahad

Chapter Text

When Din pointed out Mos Pelgo on a map, Luke looked at him like he had two heads. Nothing lived out that way, he insisted; if anything, it was Tusken hunting grounds. It wasn’t until Din explained that he killed the krayt dragon there that Luke understood.

“So, who’s out there that we’d need to recruit?” asked Luke, helping stack the plates from the night’s dinner.

“My best guess is the man that I teamed up with to kill the dragon,” Din said as he stood up to help, himself. “His name’s Cobb Vanth, the marshal. He’s a good man.”

“He’s the one who stole my armor,” Boba grumbled.

“He didn’t steal it,” Din shot back. “Anyway, he owes me twice over for helping him with his dragon problem. Cobb’s not a half-bad shot, either. He might be useful.”

Luke nodded, deep in thought. He busied himself with clearing the table, helping the servant Boba called into the room with stacking the plates and baskets back onto his cart. Din wondered if perhaps Luke felt uncomfortable being waited on.

“Tell you what,” Boba groaned as he stood up from his seat. “It’s late. I ain’t sending you back out to try and make it back to Mos Espa to find a place to sleep tonight, so take a couple rooms here and relax. Go out to Mos Pelgo in the morning while we work here to straighten out our affairs. Come back whenever you get your man, and we’ll ride out.”

With Luke near the door, Din tapped Boba’s elbow and jerked his head to ask for some privacy.

“Can I ask why you’re doing this?” Din said, his voice as low and soft as he could make it. “I know why I’m doing this — but this is a big mission and I don’t think it’s right for me to ask so much of you both.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I also don’t buy that sh*t about forgiving Skywalker for the sarlacc thing.”

Boba raised an eyebrow. “You calling me a liar, Djarin?”

“No!” Din hissed. He looked over their shoulder to see if Luke heard him. Satisfied he hadn’t, Din pressed on. “I just don’t think I would forgive that easily, that’s all.”

“sh*t happens — you, of all people, should know that by now,” Boba said. “As for this whole quest thing, I’ll be honest: I’d much rather stay here, holed up in my fortress and run my little empire. Think I’m getting the hang of it. But if the Jedi there is right and there’s some sh*t on the horizon that we don’t see yet, I want to be the first to find out.”

Din chewed his lower lip. “And this whole Force thing — you believe that?”

Boba gave Din a sideways glance before shifting his eyes down to the floor and heaving a sigh. Concern blared angry alarms in Din’s head; he’d never once seen Boba look anything akin to ashamed in the time that he’d known him. He didn’t think ‘shame’ existed in Boba’s vocabulary.

“We should talk, and well out of earshot of your companion,” said Boba. “Let’s head to the kitchens; I have a few bottles of tihaar calling our names.”

Not for the first time that day, Din wondered how he ended up in an entirely new place and without his helmet yet again. This time, he ended up sitting across a small table in the palace’s kitchens with Boba Fett, nursing a bottle of house-made tihaar. It wasn’t quite the same as the stuff his covert used to make, but it still carried the same burn as it did when Din took his first ceremonial sip after taking the Creed and then his first full cup when he earned the title of beroya.

The burn represented pride, the elders told him. The resolve of their people, the traditions of old.

Din fiddled with the small ceramic cup, rolling it between his leather-clad fingers and marveling at the craquelure of the glaze. Eventually, he turned the cup upside-down, a universal symbol of ‘if you pour me any more of your jet fuel, I cannot be held responsible for my actions past that point’. The fumes from the booze still stung his eyes and Din hoped that it wouldn’t kill any of the brain cells he worked so hard to recover after a bunch of near-indestructible droids pushed his head into a wall.

“So, what was it that was so bad that we couldn’t say this around Luke?” Din asked, happy that his brain hadn’t completely quit on him yet.

“’Luke’, huh?” Boba snorted, lips hovering over his own cup.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” answered Boba. “So, you asked me earlier why I took Skywalker at face value. I saw that sh*t firsthand, Djarin — there ain’t nothing in this galaxy that unnerves me as much as Force users. If he’s saying something’s about to happen, I’m not arguing with him.”

Din couldn’t help the wince that crossed his face. As he became more and more comfortable with showing his face, Din noticed that he didn’t have quite the same emotional control that others did; when Boba suddenly looked concerned, Din cursed himself for not having the same level of grace that seemed to come to Luke naturally.

“Look, I didn’t mean to say anything about your son or your friend,” Boba said. “They’re not the same sort of people I knew back in the day. Your Jedi, they’re on the backfoot and trying to make it through to the next day. Underdogs. When I knew them, they were as much a power in the galaxy as any planet, them and their opposite side or whatever.”

Din, in his confusion, leaned back in his chair and squinted at Boba. “What are you talking about, ‘sides’? You’re either Force sensitive or not.”

Boba shook his head. “That’s not it at all. I don’t know much about the mystical part of it, but it’s just like anything else,” Boba began. “Say you still had your Amban phase pulse rifle. That’s a powerful weapon, right?”

Din nodded.

“Right, so you have this badass rifle. You have all the ammo you’d ever need for it, and you’ve got perfect aim. You’re not just a crackshot, you’re a master at it,” Boba continued. “That rifle’s an extension of your soul and you’re a god on the battlefield.”

“Sure,” Din agreed, hoping Boba would eventually arrive at his point.

“So, you’re on a battlefield. Whose side are you on? Who do you aim that magic rifle towards?” asked Boba, his hand grasping his cup over the rim and using his index finger to point at Din. “You’re still a person and you can still die, but what if you had the power to change the entire course of a battle on your own? Do you fight for higher ideals like peace and justice, or do you fight for your own personal gain?”

Din started to piece together what Boba meant, but it didn’t confuse him any less. First, Ahsoka explained that the Force was energy that bound all living things, and some sentients in the galaxy could control that energy. That made sense. Then, Luke agreed with Ahsoka but then the Force was also a sentient, omnipotent being that used Force sensitives for its own whims. Now, the Force sensitives chose sides? A sudden chill ran through him at the thought that he didn’t know what side the red-haired Jedi stood on, and that perhaps he chose poorly.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Din calmed himself. Luke told him that whoever had Grogu took care of him and Grogu felt happy in the Force. Despite the reassurance, Din resisted picking up the jug of tihaar and embracing the sweet release from consciousness it would surely bring.

“So, you’re saying that Force sensitives choose to either be selfless or selfish?” Din asked. “Good and bad, I guess?”

Boba nodded as he knocked back the rest of his drink. “That’s about the gist of it, yeah,” he said, groaning as the booze burned its way down his throat. “I used to think that light and dark was all a matter of perspective, and then I saw whatever the hell the Dark Side did to people.

“I watched as my father fought two Jedi — men of a noble order that fought for lofty ideals — and I witnessed one of them kill my father without so much as a second thought. I thought the Jedi were cruel and detached,” Boba said. “I had no love for any of those bastards.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Din muttered.

Boba waved his hand. “It happened a long time ago. That’s when I learned a lesson for trying to take revenge, but that’s a story for another time. That Jedi was f*ck-off powerful — just like that magical rifle — but nothing compared to the man I worked for during the civil war.”

“You worked for a Jedi?” asked Din, scooting closer to the table and leaning his weight on it.

“Not a Jedi,” Boba corrected. “He was Sith, which is their word for ‘the Dark Side’. The things I watched him do… it sometimes still keeps me up at night. I never complained because they compensated me well and I follow the bounty hunters’ code, but it still doesn’t sit well when I think about it too long. Djarin, I need you to know that whatever Skywalker showed you and whatever you’ve experienced with him and your son wasn’t even scratching the surface.”

That sticky, sour taste of worry returned to the back of Din’s throat. In the last year of being with his son, Din witnessed miracles of the Force he could never explain, performed with little effort. He remembered jokingly asking Luke what sort of monster he was — maybe that wasn’t too far from the truth.

Maybe that thought was a bridge too far. Needlessly cruel.

“Do you think Luke’s capable of… whatever you’re talking about?” asked Din.

“Anyone’s capable of anything,” Boba replied. “But I don’t think he’s easily swayed from his path. By all accounts, he seems to be a good man. You said earlier that he told you he has a personal stake in this quest, right?”

Din nodded.

“I think he’s telling you the truth, but it’s not him I’d be worried about — it’s whatever the hell he’s talking about, this grand threat,” Boba continued. “If it’s something that’s got Skywalker freaked out enough to come seek me out, then I’m compelled to follow. The politics are all fine and good, but what does Tatooine or Mandalore matter if what Skywalker says is true? If I have the power in my hands to prevent tragedy, I will. Too many children in this galaxy grow up without parents.

“What was it your man said — call it reconciliation?” Boba asked with a bit of a laugh.

Din rolled his eyes as he stood up from the table, ignoring whatever that last jab meant. “Yeah, sure.”

“Let’s get to bed, then,” Boba responded as he stood up, himself. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you, and if I drink any more of this sh*t, I may actually die.”

“Thank you, Fett — for everything,” said Din.

“Thank me when it’s over,” said Boba.

Once the suns settled well below the horizon and everyone agreed to call it a night, Boba called in for a servant to take Din and Luke to their quarters. Boba and Fennec said their farewells and took off elsewhere. The servant, a young Twi’lek woman, stood outside the door, greeting them both and showing them the way to their own rooms.

As she led them through the halls, Din noticed that the path led to the entrance of the palace’s looming tower. She explained that the tower housed all the living quarters for the palace’s inhabitants, with the accommodations better towards the top of the tower and the servants’ quarters at the bottom.

“How do you like it here?” Luke asked as they reached the lift to the upper floors of the tower.

“It’s been great since Lord Fett took over,” the young lady answered. “We’re paid well, we’re free to leave whenever we like — we don’t even have to live in the quarters, if we so choose. We have our dignity here.”

“That’s wonderful,” Luke said. “I’m so happy things are better now than even just a few years ago.”

The servant perked up at that. “You’re from Tatooine, milord?”

Din listened in on their conversation about the Tatooine of years past, even as they reached their floor and the young lady guided them further down the hall. She took Luke to his room at one end of the hall, then led Din to his own room. As they entered the room, the servant guided him through all the room’s amenities, including a set of sleep clothes should he feel like changing.

Once the young lady finally left, Din quickly shucked off his armor and flight suit, happily taking advantage of the sonic shower and the soft sleep clothes as he settled into the bed (which was nowhere near as good as his bed on the Tantive IV). He passed out without a single thought about grand prophecies or whatever the future may hold.

A loud yell woke Din up from a deep, dreamless sleep. He grabbed the first thing he could reach — his spear — and ran out into the hallway, his bare feet softly padding against the stone floor. It wasn’t until his eyes adjusted to the soft lighting running along the edges of the hallways’ floors that he realized he ran out of his room without his armor or even shoes. He cursed himself for thinking that somehow he wouldn’t need to wear his armor to bed just because Boba’s palace seemed safe, but a crackle of ignited plasma interrupted his thoughts and he took off down the hallway towards the sound.

Turning the corner, Din found Luke standing in the middle of the hall with his back towards Din; Luke held his lightsaber up in a high guard as he backed up towards Din slowly. Looking past Luke and down the hall, Din could only make out a few strange amber lights against the shadows. In his sleep-addled mind, Din wasn’t sure why wall lights would freak Luke out so badly, but that would be a question best saved for later.

“Luke, I’m here,” Din announced as he tightened the grip on his own weapon. If Luke thought it was a threat, the least Din could do would be to take him seriously.

“I know,” Luke whispered back. “You ready to fight these things?”

“What things?”

As Luke lifted his lightsaber up into a longpoint guard down the hall, Din finally saw them — large, mechanical, spider-like beings with glass, liquid-filled abdomens. The brilliant green flame of Luke’s lightsaber reflected back at them from the shiny black metal as the spiders ambled their way towards them. Even in the dim light, Din could count maybe twenty of the creatures. Remembering the fight he and his son survived on Maldo Kreis, the spiders’ awful, jerking movements sent Din’s heart racing as he brought his spear forward and stood next to Luke.

He hated himself even more for leaving his armor behind.

A light flipped on overhead, sending several of the creatures skittering back down the hall and several more of them bumping into each other. Their limbs and bodies gave off faint screeching sounds with every collision. As they crashed and toppled, Din noticed that their glowing abdomens held what looked to be a sentient’s brain suspended in that fluid. It nearly made his stomach turn.

“What are you two f*ckers doing out here?”

Luke and Din spun around to see Boba Fett standing at the end of the hall, looking about as tired as they did. Luke simply gestured at the spider droids still moving around, some now climbing on top of one another to escape the light.

“Oh, those things,” Boba sighed. “Those are the original owners of the place, the B’omarr priests. Weird assholes decided they didn’t want any more of the world, so they’d scoop their brains out to stick in the droids so they could think without the outside world bothering them.”

“What the f*ck,” Din said, more of a statement than a question. “You’re just saying that to mess with us.”

Boba leveled a glare at him. “I ain’t twisted enough to make up sh*t like that, Djarin.”

“And that just… doesn’t bother you at all,” Luke said as he finally powered down his lightsaber.

Din could hear the irritation in his voice, Luke’s teeth practically grinding.

Boba shrugged. “Can’t get rid of the bastards. We chased them out, they come right back in. They’re literally aimless little f*ckers that skitter around wherever they please with no way to keep them out.”

“Couldn’t have warned us about that sh*t when we agreed to stay the night?” asked Din.

“Didn’t think you were gonna wander around the palace at zero-dark thirty,” Boba said as he turned to head back to his room. “They’re harmless. They can’t see or hear, much less hurt you. What are they gonna do, poke you with their legs?”

“That doesn’t look threatening to you?” Din asked, jabbing his spear at the droids for emphasis.

“Nope,” Boba said. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t let the spider droids get you on the way back!”

And with that, they stood in the hallway on their own with the priests still crawling over one another. Luckily, they didn’t come any closer.

“So are you going to go back down the hall, or…?” Din asked.

Luke shook his head emphatically. “f*ck that noise,” he scoffed. “I’ll go sleep in the throne room before I try going back that way.”

Din tutted, shaking his head. “I’m not letting you sleep in the damn throne room,” he groaned. “Come on, the bed’s too big for me, anyway.”

Luke froze. “You don’t have to do that!” he hissed.

“Why not?” Din said as he turned back down the hall and left the sight of the awful spider things behind. He heard the soft patter of Luke’s bare feet swiftly follow him.

“I don’t want to intrude!” Luke continued. “I can just slice those things up and get back to my room.”

“There’s a reason you didn’t ‘just slice them up’, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Din replied. “You can tell me about it in the room.”

They both arrived at Din’s room, with Din opening up the door and letting Luke in first. He locked it for good measure, hoping the spider priests hadn’t learned to slice locks.

“I can sleep in the chair if there’s an extra blanket,” Luke said as he placed his lightsaber on a dresser.

Din shook his head again. “I’m not letting you sleep in a chair when there’s enough bed here for four grown people.”

He wasn’t sure why Luke seemed so jumpy about co-sleeping with another warrior. Din couldn’t remember all the countless times he huddled with sometimes ten other soldiers during frigid nights while serving in the Fighting Corps, or shared cots with someone while waiting out a vicious storm somewhere. He knew Luke served in the Rebel military; surely they did the same thing to keep warm or save space, especially in a hellhole like Hoth. What good would being precious about space or privacy be in an instance where horrible spider droids lurked outside his room?

Luke said nothing as he finally lifted the covers and slid in on the opposite, untouched side of the bed. Din did the same and turned off the room lights, letting the soft moonlight of the triple Tatooine moons stream through the open window. Despite the distance, Din could still feel Luke’s tension. He couldn’t sleep if Luke insisted on laying there, rigid as stone.

He was, as Luke himself put it, thinking too loudly.

“Why did those things rattle you so badly?” Din rumbled.

Turning under the covers, Luke laid on his side and faced Din. “Those things are Force sensitive,” Luke explained. “They came to my door and started scratching at it, begging me to let them inside. Against my better judgment, I opened the door and they almost swarmed me. I know they’re sentient because they kept… I don’t know, broadcasting their thoughts at me. I normally keep up a mental shield, but they were a lot all at once.”

Din winced as Luke spoke, horrified at the idea that not only did those things seek Luke out, they reached out to him and tried to flood his mind. It wasn’t something Din ever had any specific experience with, nor did he ever intend to find out. He wondered if Boba knew exactly what they were, and if he’d tolerate them any longer if he did.

“What kind of thoughts were they?” asked Din.

Din heard Luke sigh. “Some stuff was benign, other stuff was pretty gross. Most of it was just a confused, splintered-up mess. It makes sense that they’re disembodied priests or whatever, now that I think about it. I just hope they got the message and f*cked off somewhere else.”

“I’m sorry,” Din said at last. “But why didn’t you kill them? sh*t, might as well put them out of their misery.”

“I felt bad for them,” Luke answered. “They’re just minds floating out there in the ether, probably insane from lack of stimulation. They wanted someone to connect with them, and as much as I hate everything about them, they didn’t deserve to die for it.”

Din hummed thoughtfully. He respected that position, despite not finding it within himself to show such mercy to anything with that many spindly legs. He wondered if Luke felt the loss of such creatures more acutely, if the Force somehow made him feel their presence — and not just of other Force sensitives, but any sort of sentient. Maybe that’s why Luke didn’t jump when Din appeared in the hall.

He decided to ask Luke about it when he wasn’t about to fall asleep.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I locked the door,” Din said. “I’m also closest to the door, so if any of those spider f*ckers wanna come suck your brains out or something, they’ll have to get through me first.”

Luke laughed as he shifted back under the covers. “Oh, my hero,” he huffed. “However shall I thank you?”

“Going back to sleep would be…” Din paused to yawn, “… the best.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Good night, Luke.”

“’Night, Din.”

As Luke pulled the blanket over his frame and settled into his spot on the far side of the bed, Din looked at Luke and saw him as he was — a man so gentle and trusting that even the moonlight seemed at home in his hair, soft and silver and lovely. A pang of guilt stabbed at Din’s chest for thinking, even for a moment, someone so inherently good could do anything like Boba described. It didn’t make sense with the image of Luke that Din made in his mind, an image that now included a soft blue shadow dusting over the apples of his cheeks.

Din finally drifted off to sleep, thankful he himself didn’t have any sort of Force abilities.

Din woke up to the Tatooine suns just barely cresting over the windowsill, the room still cool and the sunlight still soft. He immediately noticed the weight on top of his right shoulder, and the warmth radiating from the man currently snuggled between his arm and chest.

He suddenly remembered the priests and having to practically fight Luke to sleep here for the night. If he were honest, the whole thing was rather endearing.

He considered waking Luke up — they already had so much daylight and it would only get hotter from now. However, remembering the way Grogu would act whenever Din had to wake him up for any reason, Din resigned himself to his fate as Luke’s personal pillow. He thought about all the times in previous lives as a soldier, then bounty hunter, that he was in a similar position. Even though Paz Vizsla could easily keep three Mandalorians warm on his own, somehow Din ended up at the center of the keep-warm huddle and he mildly resented it to this day. He wondered what that said about him.

Maybe it was just his magnetic personality.

A stirring under his arm pulled Din out of his reverie. He tilted his head down to find Luke moving slowly, his gloved hand finding its way onto Din’s chest as he pushed himself up onto his elbow. Luke’s hair stood up every which way it could, as though it woke up long before Luke did. His eyes bleary, Luke finally turned his attention towards Din.

Din would’ve said good morning if Luke hadn’t thrown himself across the bed, taking the bed covers with him.

“Stars, I’m so sorry!” Luke yelped from his side of the bed as he hid his face entirely under the covers that Din wanted back. “I really didn’t mean to!”

Din finally sat up, groaning as his back popped. “What are you apologizing for? I told you last night I don’t care.”

“You really don’t care?” Luke asked, eyes peeking over the edge of the bedspread. “I should’ve warned you that I’m a cuddler.”

Dropping the sheet entirely, Luke looked utterly embarrassed. Din looked down at himself, wondering if somehow he lost some clothing during the night, but he still had all of his sleep clothes. Luke still had on all his clothing, too. Still, Luke wouldn’t look him in the eye and Din wondered if maybe he just didn’t grow up around other people the way Din did.

“Everyone seeks out heat when they sleep,” Din snorted as he stood up. He tried not to wince at the chill of the sandstone on his bare feet. “This is far from the first time I woke up with someone underneath my arm. If you slept well, what does it matter?”

Luke flushed, scarlet going all the way down his neck. “I just didn’t want to cross any boundaries. I figured that you value your privacy, that you didn’t want to get too close,” he said as he finally extricated himself from the covers and scrambled out of the bed. He walked around the bed and past Din, heading towards the door. All the while, his eyes still wouldn’t meet Din’s own. “We don’t have to talk about this again.”

Din stopped Luke from scurrying out with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t offend me — are you alright?”

“Fine!” Luke said, his voice pitched higher than normal. “Just great! I’m going to my room. Where my clothes are. Right. I’ll see you downstairs!”

Din stared at the door, long after Luke already left, wondering if he somehow scared Luke. Shrugging it off, he got himself ready for the day and tried his best to forget the whole thing. They had somewhere to be, and needed to get on the road sooner rather than later.

After a rushed breakfast and a quick review of the map, Din and Luke headed down into the depths of the palace to meet Fennec in the garage. She promised them a decent vehicle they could borrow for the trip into Mos Pelgo, and they wanted to get on the road before the suns climbed too high..

Entering the garage, Din looked around and spotted a number of luxury speeders and large, custom-made hovercraft that looked to be appropriately Hutt-sized. Many of the vehicles looked to be in disrepair, neglected and torn up for scrap. Others looked like they still had remnants of Hutt-slime still on them. He hoped Fennec wouldn’t make them take any of those, but looking at the selection, they may not have a choice.

“Welcome to the sh*tshow,” Fennec said from underneath an old speeder bike. After a moment, she threw down a hydrospanner in frustration. “I’d apologize for the state of things, but with Bo working day and night to take over what remains of Hutt space, we haven’t exactly had time to revamp our fleet here.”

“We’re grateful for the help, regardless,” Luke said. “Otherwise, we’d be forced to use the Corvette.”

Fennec lifted herself out from underneath the bike, eyes narrowed in clear annoyance. “A good idea if you’re trying to invade them, probably. Come on, I have something for you over there.”

Standing up and dusting herself off, Fennec led them through the cavern, dodging strewn parts and tools as they wound up at last towards the exit. Someone had the blast doors mercifully closed, but Din could still feel the radiant heat coming through the metal. That’s when he saw the ancient 74-Z bikes — and already hated himself for groaning audibly. Hoping against hope, Din wanted something at least a little covered and faster than a couple bikes.

“You’re getting free transportation, Mando — I’d be real grateful were I you,” Fennec snapped.

“We are!” Luke cut in, already gravitating towards one of the bikes. “They’re great, Miss Shand; we’ll take good care of them, won’t we?”

Din grumbled in agreement, already hating that they’d be exposed to the sunlight. At least he felt reassured no Hutt ever sat on them.

“I’ll be back in a sec — the boss insisted on sending you two out with some provisions before you took off,” Fennec said over her shoulder as she headed out.

Din turned his attention back to Luke, who, in the course of watching Fennec leave, already found a toolbox and sat down next to one of the bikes.

“I figured these bikes annoyed you because they’re not as fast as a standard speeder, and that means being out longer under the sun,” Luke said as he fiddled with a wrench. “But if you give me just a few minutes with these guys, I can take the governors off and tweak some of the settings, we’ll be cruising faster than any pod racer out here.”

“You sure about that?” asked Din.

“Absolutely!” Luke replied as he tossed a part behind his shoulder. “I used to modify these things all the time for races. Wish I had a couple of T-16 skyhoppers; we’d really be screaming across the desert.”

“Guess there’s not much else to do for fun around here,” said Din as he sat down next to Luke.

Luke shook his head. “Not at all. Learning to fix this stuff’s a good skill to have, though,” he said as he tightened something-or-other, Din wasn’t sure the name of the part. “What about you, ever done anything stupid like a speeder bike race when you were a kid?”

“No, never had the time or wherewithal,” Din said. “I trained for my entire childhood after the Mandalorians found me, earned my adulthood at thirteen, became my Tribe’s hunter at sixteen. Held the position ever since.”

Din realized how bad that sounded after he said it, concerned that somehow this turned into a sick contest of Who Had the Worse Childhood. He wasn’t sure how it ended up here, but now he just felt awkward.

“Well, if you’re up for doing something stupid, we can definitely have a good old-fashioned sand race,” Luke said, finally turning his attention back towards Din and giving him a soft smile in turn. “Make up for lost time. What say you, Lord Mandalore?”

“I —“

“Hey, Djarin!”

Din jerked his head immediately over his shoulder, finding Boba Fett at the other end of the garage waving at him. Luke waved him off with that same serene smile as he turned his attention back to the bike. Taking that as permission to leave the conversation, Din finally stood up and dusted himself off before making his way over towards Boba.

“Before you go, Djarin,” Boba began, “I had something made for you; I sent an emergency request to a tailor out in Mos Espa and they just delivered it at the palace gates.”

Boba nodded and a servant, an older Twi’lek man, brought out a large box. Boba took the box from him and muttered a quick word of thanks before turning and holding the box out for Din to take.

“May I?” Din asked as he took the box from Boba’s hands.

“Naturally,” Boba replied.

Din, holding the box with one hand while he lifted the lid with another, looked inside it and scowled to himself. “Fett, what is it?”

“Take it out and see, fool,” Boba said, exasperated.

Din set the box on the floor and reached inside, pulling out what he assumed was some sort of garment. As he pulled it out, the garment unfurled; Din held it up to the light with both hands. He still didn’t understand quite what it was — he knew it looked like black leather, but that was about it.

“I still don’t know what it is.”

Boba groaned loudly. “I should’ve figured the people that barely taught you how to use that damn thing on your back didn’t explain what this is,” he sighed. “This is a kama — it’s an overskirt to protect your legs from your jetpack’s exhaust. I had it made of bantha leather for extra durability. It’s also valuable out here in the desert; it keeps sand out of f*cking horrible places to get sand.”

Din lowered the kama and held it up to his waist. “I guess we match now. Always wondered why you wore that thing, but I just assumed it was none of my business.”

Truth be told, Din really didn’t think about such protection; his flightsuit protected his legs for the most part, but even he started to get concerned after he began to feel the heat of the exhaust through the pant legs.

“Thank you, Fett — truly, I appreciate it,” Din said as he folded the kama up over his arms. “I’ll go figure out how to put this on.”

“I’m sure Skywalker would be happy to help,” Boba laughed.

Din surely had no idea what that meant.

“Speaking of, I got something for that jerk, too,” Boba said as he fussed around with his pockets. “HEY SKYWALKER, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” asked Luke as he walked up to them and wiped off his hands on a rag.

“Got you something for the journey,” said Boba as he finally pulled his prize from a pocket somewhere in his robes. “Found these the other day while clearing out some junk, thought you might find these useful.”

Luke turned the object over in his hands. “These are sun-goggles,” he said as he strung the bands between his fingers.

“Not just any sun-goggles — these bastards have a HUD installed,” said Boba. “Ain’t got use for ‘em myself, so better for you to have it.”

Clutching the present to his chest, Luke gave Boba a brilliant smile. “You do like me!”

“Ain’t said a f*cking thing like that,” Boba spat.

Before Boba could mount a defensive, much less react, Luke had the other man in his arms in what Din thought was the galaxy’s most awkward, strangest hug.

“I f*cking hate this,” Boba grumbled.

“No, you don’t,” Luke laughed. “Thank you, Boba.”

Boba only grumbled in response, eventually shoving Luke off him and storming out of the room.

“Don’t f*cking die out there, or do, I don’t give a sh*t!” was the last thing they heard from him as he stomped up the stairs.

“Planning on any more diplomacy through physical affection?” asked Din as they turned back towards the bikes. “Think I would’ve much rather gotten a sentimental present and a hug than a horrific Force vision.”

Luke only stared at him, wide-eyed and jaw open as he grasped for words. Din could only laugh, making Luke blush even harder as he fumbled with the goggles in his hand.

“Don’t worry — I think waking up with you cuddled up next to me was enough,” Din said as he walked back to the bikes and left Luke floundering in the middle of the garage.

Din winced as soon as he said it, but he already had his helmet back on his head and Luke couldn’t see it. He decided his mortification was a low price to pay to see the high flush on Luke’s cheeks.

Once Luke finished tinkering with the bikes and loaded the supplies Fennec brought them, they finally took off for Mos Pelgo with the suns still somewhat low in the sky. As they sped towards their destination, Din hoped that they could wrap up negotiations quickly and get the hell off this miserable rock as fast as possible. Every single time he came to Tatooine, Din hoped it would be the last — knowing his luck, that would never be the case.

Din thought Luke already looked hilarious with his giant goggles and matching headset before they took off, but Luke looked even crazier with his dramatic black cloak sweeping out behind him as they raced across the dunes, the tail of the scarf Luke wrapped around his face flying in the breeze. Then again, he probably didn’t look much different with his own cape and bright, reflective armor. He left Boba’s gift in the saddle bag of the bike and promised to put them on when they got to town, hoping that his flight suit could handle just a little bit more abuse until then.

At one point, Luke decided it would be an excellent idea to stand up on the seat of his bike and surf the waves of the dunes using his stupid wizard powers to keep him upright while steering the bike. Din told him exactly what he thought of Luke showing off, all while secretly wishing he could pull off the same trick.

The tops of Mos Pelgo’s buildings finally rose above the dunes as the suns began their descent into the horizon and Din felt grateful for finally getting the chance to stop and stretch his legs (something that Luke already had the opportunity to do). Din directed them towards the first building right on the edge of town and finally dismounted. He only saw a few people milling about the main part of the town, but Din figured most of the town would be inside until the sun started to set in earnest.

As Luke hopped off his bike, Din suppressed a loud groan as the stiffness of his joints threatened to take him out of commission. He hoped Luke couldn’t hear his spine pop back into place as he finally stood up.

“You good?” Luke asked, a snide smirk on his face.

Din scowled beneath his helmet.

Before he could retort, an excited cry grabbed Din’s attention. Heads began to peek out from the windows and doors of various buildings, all looking their way.

“It’s Mando!” a voice shouted.

“Hey, Mando! Good to see you back!”

“You back for good this time?!”

“Welcome back!”

A number of children from the local schoolhouse all ran out of the building and straight towards Din and Luke, giggling and shouting as they chanted, “Mando! Mando!”

“Look at you, Mr. Popularity,” Luke laughed as three children swarmed Din’s legs.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Din muttered, picking up one of the children in his arms. “Kids like shiny things.”

Well, his kid liked shiny things, at any rate.

Several other townspeople came up to them and shook Din’s hand, asking about his journey and his son. Luke introduced himself to as many of the residents as he could, looking more at ease in such a setting than Din ever could.

As Din handed the kid in his arms back to her mother, a young Tusken warrior, newly blooded by Din’s estimation, approached the both of them with a pair of black melons and kind greetings from the chieftain. Din thanked him — the gesture itself endlessly kind — and reached into his sling bag to pull out two pallie fruits Fennec packed for them as thanks. He turned to hand a melon to Luke, but Luke looked back at him like he just offered him a fresh snake.

“Problem?” Din asked as the crowd, quickly bored, dissipated.

“No, not at all, just…” Luke began. “You’re also friends with the Tuskens?” Din felt his heckles raise, but Luke sounded more bewildered, curious than anything.

“They’re good people,” said Din as he pocketed a melon in a pouch on his belt. “Never known a single Tusken to ever go back on their word. Honorable to a fault. They respect fellow warriors and only ask to have their resources left alone. They’re very good friends to have out in these parts.”

Luke looked away, like he wanted to disagree but couldn’t bring himself to do so. He stared down at the melon, almost as though he didn’t know what to do with it.

“They haven’t been very… kind to my family,” he started. “I’m sure you’re right, though.”

Din hummed. “They’re not easy to get to know, and many Tuskens are hostile to off-worlders,” he said. “I won’t pretend to understand what you went through here and I won’t pry, I just ask that you’re courteous. We’re guests here. Besides, we’re so far away from Anchorhead that I doubt the tribe that threatened your family has any connection to this tribe.”

“I wouldn’t dare be anything else,” Luke said as he tilted his head. “I guess that makes sense, though. The other townspeople treat them like their own.”

“It wasn’t always that way,” Din said as they approached the saloon. “I guess there’s something about blowing up a dragon that brings people together.”

“Was wondering when you’d be coming back our way!”

Din and Luke immediately turned their attention to the saloon doors, finding Cobb Vanth standing there with a smile wide on his face and a bottle in his hand. He remembered their last meeting here, and the difference a few months made nearly threw Din for a loop. Cobb seemed so much happier — certainly less stressed — and the rest of the town just seemed to follow.

Din couldn’t help but feel a little bad about what they were about to ask of Cobb.

“Good to see you again, Vanth,” Din said as he stuck out his hand for Cobb to take. “This is my…,” Din paused. What was Luke to him, exactly? ‘First Knight’ sounded strange and off-putting, much less to someone as down-to-earth as Cobb.

“I’m his associate, Luke Skywalker,” Luke said as he stuck out his own hand. “Good to meet you! Heard quite a bit about you.”

“Ain’t had the pleasure of hearing about you, Mr. Skywalker,” Cobb replied, a grin wide on his face. “Step on in, we’ve got cold drinks and lots of shade.”

Cobb guided them both to what Din recognized as his usual table, with only a few folks milling about the bar. Their host gestured to the bartender for a bottle of the house special with cups as they sat down and settled in.

“So, where’s the little guy?” Cobb asked as soon as the bottle hit the table.

“He’s with his new teacher,” Din said. “We found a Jedi to train him.”

Cobb smiled as he took the cups and poured out a serving of spotchka for each of his guests. “That’s great! Glad to know he’s doing good. Hopefully he’s in a much more quiet place than Tatooine, anyway.”

“I guess that isn’t so hard to do,” Luke cut in.

Cobb nodded in assent. “By the way, I gotta admit, ‘Skywalker’ sounds like a sorrowlanes name to my ears,” Cobb said as he kicked his heels up on the table. “You from around here, man?”

“I am, and you’re right,” Luke said, coolly. “My grandmother and father were slaves here on Tatooine, right over in Mos Espa. I grew up near Anchorhead, on the Lars moisture farm.”

That seemed to shake Cobb from his easy demeanor. “You’re a Skywalker of Mos Espa? Say, you related to that kid back before the Clone Wars that won the Boonta Eve Podrace?”

Luke blinked, looking as though he never expected that question. “That was my father, yes,” he nodded. “His name was Anakin Skywalker.”

“Hot damn, I’m talking to the Hero with No Fear’s kid?!” Cobb shouted as he swung his feet off the table and slammed a hand down in his excitement. “He’s the one that made it out of this here sh*thole and made a name for himself! We used to tell stories about him when I was a kid, you know? Everyone wanted to be him when they grew up — maybe they couldn’t be a Jedi, but they could stand up and do something with their lives. Didn’t have to be a slave forever.

“Y’know, they say he died defending the Jedi Temple from the man who killed all them kids,” Cobb continued, his voice dropping low and conspiratorial. “What a hero. Never did believe any of that banthash*t about the Jedi being evil or whatever, not when Anakin Skywalker was out there doing the right thing until he died. You must be real proud to be his son, carrying on the family tradition.”

Din looked over at Luke and watched as he clenched his grasped hands. He could hear the familiar creak of strained leather and suddenly worried if Luke would lose his cool. In the short time since they started off on this journey, Din never knew Luke to be anything but calm and collected.

What kind of man was Anakin Skywalker to provoke such a reaction?

“I’m glad he inspired you,” Luke said quietly. “I’m glad he did something good with his life.”

Cobb raised an eyebrow. “I sense that somehow, you didn’t exactly have the best relationship with your old man.”

“I’m sorry; that’s not your problem,” Luke said, his gaze furtive. “I really am glad that Anakin Skywalker meant something good to you. I think he’d like to know that he left something behind worth remembering.”

“I get it — everyone’s complicated,” Cobb said with a shrug. “Lotta great men out there with families left behind so they could go be great. You hate to see it happen, but it’s a tale as old as time.”

“Speaking of legacies and the Force, we’ve come here seeking your help,” Din interrupted. It made him uncomfortable to watch Luke try and change the subject on his own. “To make a very long story short, we need your help to take back Mandalore. I’m gathering a group of warriors — people from all over the galaxy that can help us. There’s a Force prophecy that says we need to reclaim my planet in order to keep my kid safe. Will you help us?”

Cobb sat there in silence, blinking at Din like he would any other drunk person on another rant. “You ain’t messing with me, are you?”

“He’s not,” Luke said. “I’m one of the warriors sworn to assist him in his quest. I know this is a lot to take in all at once, but it’s very important. We could really use your help.”

“Who else you got coming along on this crazy ride?” asked Cobb.

“So far, we’ve got Boba Fett and Fennec Shand,” Din answered. “We’re leaving here in a couple days to go find the rest of the crew.”

Cobb hummed thoughtfully as he tossed back the rest of the contents of his glass. Din chewed on his lip in anticipation, wondering what they could possibly say to someone that had only a vague idea of what the Jedi were and likely didn’t care.

“Friend, I told you I would help you anytime you need it,” Cobb said, finally breaking his silence. “I ain’t backing out on that promise, but you’re asking me to leave my town, the only home I’ve ever really known, in order to follow your ass around the galaxy and save a glass planet?”

“Not glass anymore,” Luke corrected. “Mandalore’s very much alive.”

Cobb nodded. “Alright, your not-glass planet,” he added. “Man, I don’t know. I was thinking about retiring in the next year or so, and this whole ‘mystical quest’ thing sounds like it’s gonna cut into my timeline. I just saved up enough to purchase a ticket off this sandbox and everything.”

“You come with us, and you can retire in my high-tier apartment in Coruscant, free of charge,” Luke said. “Excellent views of the city, droid cleaning service, actual water showers — you’ll even have your own landing pad. Ever had freshly laundered clothes, washed in actual laundry soap? Drank something that wasn’t rehydrated or made with alcohol? You will if you come with us.”

“You got yourself a f*cking deal,” Cobb said with a smile wide enough to stretch his face. “Should’ve led with that, would’ve saved you some time. I’ve done way stupider sh*t for far less!”

“Does that make you as cheap as you are easy?” asked Din.

“Mando!” Cobb gasped dramatically. “You’re the one that killed a krayt dragon for some busted-up old armor, so you don’t get to say a goddamn thing about me being cheap or easy. Besides,” Cobb said, lowering his voice to a purr as he looked Luke up and down, “under the right circ*mstances, I’m free.”

Luke only stared at Cobb, absolutely aghast as Din stood up and took Luke by the upper arm.

“Ignore him, Luke,” Din said as Luke stood up with him. “The suns fried his brains and he doesn’t know how to talk to people anymore.”

Cobb shook his head. “I’m sorry! I’m a flirt, that’s all — won’t happen again, sunshine,” he said with a smile.

“You’re doing it again,” Din said.

“You’re just going to have to chalk that one up to my personality, Mando,” Cobb said, waving his hand dismissively. “Anyway, it’s getting late and I don’t expect y’all to try and navigate your way around under the Banthas; I can set you two up here for the night and we can get going tomorrow. I get the feeling y’all aren’t too keen on sticking around these parts for very long if we have some big quest to embark upon.”

“Thank you so much for agreeing to help us,” Luke said as he put his hand out for another handshake. “It means a lot!”

“All this goes well, I’ll be the one thanking you from my new condo in Coruscant,” said Cobb as he stood up at last and took Luke’s hand. “Now, let’s get you boys settled in for the night; I got a few loose ends to wrap up here before I just take off on these folks.”

“Thank you, Vanth,” Din said.

“By the way,” Cobb said, “who the hell is Boba Fett?”

Chapter 4: Archimedes

Chapter Text

“We are never, ever doing that again,” Din panted as he stood up on shaky legs, his knees screaming at him. “I don’t care whatever your magic god says, we’re not f*cking doing that sh*t again.”

Cobb just laid on the metal floor of the ship’s co*ckpit, chest heaving with exertion. “I want to renegotiate my terms of employment here — I don’t think any condo in Coruscant’s worth whatever the f*ck y’all just put me through.”

“We got the money, so quit your bitching,” said Fennec.

She stood up from her seat at the co-pilot’s chair, the nav computer already set for their next destination. Peli Motto remained at the controls, eyes darting around the board and taking notes of all the instruments. She offered no input as she continued to press buttons that Din couldn’t even begin to fully understand on a ship this large.

“I dunno, I’m with Djarin,” Boba groaned from his own position on the floor. “That sh*t wasn’t fun.”

“What about you, Blondie?” Cobb said, raising his voice to get Luke’s attention. “Pretty quiet over there. They didn’t get you, did they?”

Luke sat up against the ship’s wall and laughed in a way that Din immediately took to mean I want to agree, but on sheer principle, I can’t, so I won’t.

“We lived,” Luke answered. “I think it was worth it, though.”

“A million credits is nothing to sneeze at,” Fennec agreed. “I probably would’ve sold one of you for maybe half that.”

A small, pleased trill escaped the wrapped bundle Luke managed to smuggle out of the building and the entire room went completely silent, save for the gentle hum of hyperspace surrounding them. Din supposed he couldn’t be mad about Luke altering the plan — stars know just how many times he decided to improvise, himself — but whatever Luke took was a living being. That was different than…

No, it wasn’t. Din would probably be worse than a hypocrite, so he just kept that thought to himself.

“Luke, what’s in the satchel?” asked Din.

“Please tell me you didn’t steal a baby,” Cobb added. “I can’t keep hanging out with y’all if you’re out here stealing babies.”

Din realized that he never told Cobb about how Grogu came to be in his care. Deciding to hold that particular story closer to his chest for another time, Din turned his attention back to the strange, squirming bundle in Luke’s arms.

Luke pulled the cover of the satchel aside. Huge, bright yellow eyes gleamed from under the makeshift hood; they seemed to dart around the room, and yet, they hardly moved. The thing inside the blanket started to shake as the hood fell off its head to reveal a bird’s face, its eyes still wide and curious.

“Not a baby,” Luke replied. “He’s a convor. His name’s Ibis.”

“And how do you know that, Skywalker?” Boba said, still not moving from his position on the ground. “He got a tag or something?”

“He told me,” Luke shrugged as he ran a finger over the bird’s head, smiling as it cooed at his touch. “He’s Force sensitive.”

48 Hours Earlier

After they managed to make it through Cobb Vanth’s awkward introduction to Boba Fett and Fennec Shand with very little violence, the team finally made it to the Mos Eisley spaceport. With little fanfare, Din and Luke helped load up everything their new crew mates packed — Boba insisted on taking three trunks’ worth of items and Fennec brought an arsenal large enough to arm a small militia. Boba also insisted on bringing a couple of his little pit droids, which Din agreed to welcome on board as long as they pulled their weight around the ship. Luke patted them on their little helmet-shaped heads and told them they were all very good boys.

In Din’s opinion, the droids had yet to prove themselves as being anything remotely close to “good boys”.

Din wasn’t sure what the hell Cobb thought to bring, but he overheard something about moving and ‘getting off the damn dust ball’, so it stood to reason that Cobb decided to use the opportunity as a free moving service. The ship had enough cargo room to fit the entirety of Mos Pelgo in it, so he said nothing — Din couldn’t blame anyone for acting in their own self-interest, as long as his obnoxious-looking carpet didn’t stand in the way of their mission.

Finally settled in, Luke sat down in the pilot’s seat of the Tantive IV and ran through all the startup procedures, the engines kicking up and purring like new. Boba, Fennec, and Cobb found themselves wandering around the ship’s bridge. Din smiled a little under his helmet at their pleased, impressed expressions. He wasn’t quite sure why he felt a little smug pride about the whole thing — it wasn’t his ship — but he embraced it, anyway. He might have to make Senator Organa an offer on the ship, after all.

“I think we have a problem,” Luke muttered as he repeatedly jammed at some button on the dashboard.

No one else seemed to hear Luke, but Din picked up on it and immediately felt worry scratch under his skin. He strode across the bridge and stood next to Luke’s chair.

“What’s wrong, Luke?” asked Din as he placed a hand on the back of Luke’s chair.

“Seems we’re just about out of fuel,” Luke answered, distracted. “I thought we’d have more than enough for the next two planets; I don’t understand.”

“For someone who grew up here, you sure are naïve,” Fennec interjected. “People here siphon fuel, especially out of big, fancy ships like this one. You probably attracted the attention of every scumbag in the Jundland Wastes.”

Boba snorted. “Might as well have put a large holo sign on it,” he said. “Bet any amount of money someone at the port authority got a cut of the profits to let the thieves at your ship.”

“Man’s got a point,” Cobb said. “People around here are something else.”

“Say, ain’t you got a military pension or something? Can’t imagine the big damn hero of the Battle of Yavin not getting set up for life,” added Boba.

“A military pension, split up amongst all the veterans of the war across the galaxy? That adds up to about twenty credits per veteran,” Luke replied. “Besides, the New Republic’s just about flat broke trying to recover from the war; there’s no way they had extra money for this journey. I’m afraid this is out of my budget.”

“Anyone here good at washing dishes?” Fennec said.

Luke responded with a loud, pained groan as he rested his head against the ship’s steering apparatus. “This is not what dear old Dad said would happen.”

The itch sitting under Din’s skin turned to deep, simmering panic. He couldn’t imagine trying to buy enough fuel rods for such a large ship to even get into low-terrestrial orbit, much less get outside the atmosphere. Beyond that, would there be any place on Tatooine to source the amount of fuel needed to get into hyperspace? Din thought about tracking the rods down, but at this rate, they’d likely be scattered across every backroom shop this side of Mos Espa.

They were well and truly f*cked.

Part of him wanted to go throw his body down onto his bed in the diplomat quarters and think about it at some point much later than now, preferably after a ten-hour nap. Another part of him wanted to personally hunt down the thieves and take whatever he could from them, with interest — whether that was money or pain, he’d leave to chance. It wasn’t the first time he handled problems with alleyway diplomacy, and the way things were going, Din figured it wouldn’t be the last.

Din turned from Luke leaning his head down on the steering apparatus to find Boba, Fennec, and Cobb fussing with each other about how Fennec couldn’t possibly have enough fuel from all the ships combined under Jabba’s castle to fly this overpowered piece of junk, how awful of an idea it would be to have Cobb go and steal someone else’s ship, and who thought it was a good idea to fly this dumb thing around the Outer Rim, anyway? Luke only sat there and groaned, punctuating each pained whimper with a soft slam of his forehead against the wheel in some strange sort of penitence.

None of this was putting fuel back into the ship.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

All eyes turned to Din. He cleared his throat.

“First, it wouldn’t matter if we had a large, flashy ship or not — stuff around here gets stolen all the time,” Din began. “Second, you ought to be grateful for the accommodations; it’s nicer than anything you’ve ever lived in, I’m sure.”

“You found me in a palace,” Boba grumbled.

Din whipped his head around to pin Boba with a pointed stare. “Be that as it may, none of that helps us now. Vanth, do me a favor — take Fett’s droids and go check the fuel rod compartment; make sure they didn’t break anything when they stole the rods. If they did, we'd have bigger problems than some stolen fuel.”

Cobb perked up at that. “Aye aye, sir!” He took off out of the bridge and into the main gangway, but not before shooting Din a sly little half-salute and a co*cky smile.

“Fett, Shand, would you mind checking with the port authority? They may have security camera footage of the assholes that stole the fuel,” Din said. “Maybe we can’t get our fuel back, but maybe we can get some of the money back. I leave your methods up to your discretion; this is your territory.”

Fennec only smiled as she guided Boba off the bridge and towards the main port of the ship. Din heard Boba continue to grumble, but ignored it as he turned to Luke, who finally stopped smacking his head to stare up at Din.

“As for you, you’re coming with me,” Din said.

“Can I just sit here and wallow in my misery, instead?” Luke asked as he rubbed at his forehead. “Miss Shand’s right; I messed up big time.”

“You have no reason to be miserable,” answered Din as he wrapped his hand around Luke’s upper arm and gently lifted him out of the pilot’s chair. “sh*t happens.”

Luke stood up without a fight. “I’m supposed to be smarter than this.”

“You can’t outsmart a system,” Din said. “This whole place is corrupt — not even Boba Fett’s cleaned this place up, and he’s been here for months.”

“But I’m from here,” Luke pouted.

“What’s that saying you told me back in Mos Pelgo?”

Groaning, Luke reached over and grabbed his cloak from the back of a chair. “There’s only one thief in Tatooine — everyone else is just trying to get their stuff back.”

“Sometimes you’re the bug, sometimes you’re the windscreen,” Din said, smiling under his helmet. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke said, waving his hand at Din. “So, what’s our mission, Chief?”

“Whatever wizard magic you do on people to get them to come along with you, we’re gonna need,” Din replied. “I may know someone that might be able to help.”

46 Hours Earlier

“Mando!”

Luke shot Din a look as Peli Motto crawled out from underneath a large landspeeder and dusted off her overalls. The months hadn’t changed her at all, Din noted; she still had far too much energy for someone living out in such an awful part of the galaxy. She beckoned the both of them into the hangar, her smile wide and friendly as she craned her to look all around them. Her face fell.

“Mando, did you lose your kid or something?” Peli shouted as she met them halfway. “I missed the little womprat and didn’t know how else to get a hold of you.”

“He’s in school,” Din answered. It made the most sense; it was mostly true. “How are you?”

She shrugged noncommittally. “It’s Mos Eisley,” she answered.

“I don’t want to waste your time, but we need some help,” Din began. “Do you have a moment?”

“You’re going to jump right into business when you haven’t even introduced me to your beau?” Peli asked, hip co*cked to the side as she waved a wrench at Din for emphasis. “That’s mighty rude, after all we’ve been through.”

Too stunned to reply, Din remained silent as Luke sputtered out his indignation. He had half a mind to feel offended — was being seen as Luke’s romantic partner that offensive of a concept?

He wasn’t sure why he cared.

“We’re just partners, that’s all,” Luke gasped. “What makes you think we’re together?”

“Just a vibe, a feeling,” Peli said. “It’s your whole thing — it’s like you’re a team, but there’s something else going on, you know?” She paused to cluck her tongue and wave off the thought. “Ignore me; I’ve been watching far too many detective holo-dramas. You know, where the partners are just friends, but you can tell that they may actually want to be together? Always in a sorta ‘will-they, won’t-they’ scenario?”

“Don’t watch holo-dramas,” Din said.

“You’re no fun!” said Peli. She turned to look directly at Luke. “I apologize for assuming, but if you’re thinking about it, go ahead and go for it — he’s a little too eligible, if you get my drift.”

Din did not, in fact, get her drift.

“Come on out of the sun!” Peli said as she turned heel to head back into the bay. “It’s getting hotter by the second and I’m not standing out there any longer.”

—————————————————————

“You got your fuel stolen and that’s somehow my problem,” Peli said as she knocked back another cup of what she claimed to be tea. “And what, you ain’t got money or something?”

“Not enough to cover fuel for a Corvette-class ship,” Luke said.

“Ha! That stupid thing belongs to you?” Peli laughed. “Well, no wonder you got robbed! Flying such a big, flashy thing’s going to get you noticed. Didn’t even leave anyone with the ship, did you?”

Luke’s cheeks burned a furious high pink. “I can’t do anything about that now, but we need some kind of fuel to get off this planet, at least.”

Peli hummed as she poured herself another cup of tea. “Well, you got yourself an entire bounty hunter, just sitting there all shiny. That’s how you paid me all those other times, Mando — surprised you ain’t thought of that yet.”

“We were hoping for something a little less time-consuming,” Luke said.

“Well, I tell you what,” Peli began, “I’d be willing to loan you some fuel rods, put ‘em on credit.”

Luke audibly sighed. “Thank you so much, Ms. Motto; that means —“

“I wasn’t done!” Peli interrupted. “I trust Mando here, but I don’t trust you. You ain’t from around here and we don’t have a relationship, you and I. In this line of work, a man’s word isn’t enough.”

“I am from here,” Luke corrected. “I’m from Anchorhead; I grew up on the Lars moisture farm.”

Peli scoffed. “Then that’s double the reason not to trust you — can’t trust anyone from Tatooine as far as you can throw ‘em.”

Luke looked visibly confused and mildly insulted, raising a hand to object. Din put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“What’s your terms, Ms. Motto?” asked Din.

“I’m coming with you until you cough up the dough,” Peli said, as if it were something as simple as a market run. “Call it insurance, if you like. I’ve been messed over far too many times, and you don’t have a kid to leave with me.”

Din reeled back, almost as if Peli just punched him square in the chest.

“I thought you liked the kid,” Din said, confused.

“I do!” she said with a tilt of her head. “He’s a great little goblin! But I always knew you’d come back as long as he was sitting in here with me.”

His face contorted into a snarl under his helmet. Looking over at Luke, Din could tell he felt much the same. No matter how either of them felt about it, Peli had a point — they had no other way to guarantee the loan and the last thing he wanted was to lose another ally. Besides, there were far worse people to have on a trip than Peli Motto.

“I’m alright with it, as long as Din’s fine with it,” Luke said with a groan. “Now, we just have to figure out how to pay you back.”

Something clicked in Din’s mind. He didn’t like the idea, but unfortunately, Peli had yet another great point: Din could always fall back on his bounty hunting skills.

Din sighed as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs. “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it, Luke.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s better than anything I’ve got,” said Luke.

“I actually have a bounty spotted,” Din said lowly. “Had him in my sights for a while.”

“Who?” Luke asked.

“You.”

44 Hours Earlier

The team rendezvoused back at the ship a couple hours after they’d tried to take off the first time and reported their findings.

“Managed to swing a few rods and a bunch of money,” Boba said as he slammed a few credit chips down on the conference room table. “Got two thousand credits out of the port authority agent alone. Took the rods over to Vanth; he’s installing them now with the droids. He says there wasn't much damage, so we’re good on that front.”

“Thank you, Fett,” Din said. At least there would be some good news out of this mess.

“How’d you two make out?” asked Fennec.

Luke cleared his throat. “Well, see, we found someone who would loan us the remaining fuel rods!” he answered, trying to look as chipper as possible.

“’Loan’? Who let you borrow fuel rods?” Boba asked. “And how are we paying them back?”

“Well, see, that’s the other thing —“

“Isn’t anyone going to help a lady out around here?!”

The crew immediately left the conference room to find the source of the voice screeching for help down the corridor. Din turned the corner to find Peli struggling with the oldest steel trunk he’d ever seen, watching as she dragged it up the gangplank and into the main port of the ship. If he had to guess, the damn thing weighed more than she did. Before Din could move to try and help her with her belongings, the trunk gently floated up into the air and out of Peli’s grasp before moving slowly through the air and over to a corner of the hall.

“You guys have a hover-mag system on this thing?” Peli said as she tapped at the floor with the steel toe of her boot. “That makes things easier.”

“…Sure do,” Luke answered. The trunk rose up off the ground again. “Tell you what, I’ll go ahead and show you to your quarters, if you like.”

Once Luke and Peli took off down the corridor towards the crew’s living areas, Boba cleared his throat. “I’m assuming she’s our guarantor.”

“Yes,” Din answered. “She wanted to come along to ensure she gets her money back.”

“Ain’t no way we have the scratch now to cover those fuel rods,” Boba retorted. “How in the hell do you propose we pay her back?”

“Once Luke comes back and Vanth’s done installing the fuel rods, we’ll fill you in on the plan.”

5 Hours Earlier

It never once occurred to Din to come anywhere near this awful planet, and as soon as he flew the Firespray-class ship he borrowed from Boba to reach the planet’s surface, he could tell why. From space, the planet looked a sickly greenish-brown and as he broke through the atmosphere, it seemed as though the sky itself appeared sick. It made Din feel uneasy.

“You feel it too, huh?” Luke asked over his shoulder as Din guided them down to the coordinates they received in the last communique from the Empire base. “This whole place just feels wrong.”

“Am I Force sensitive now, too?” Din joked as he slowed the thrusters down and began their final descent.

Luke gave a little surprised sound. “Everyone’s attuned to the Force somehow — maybe you were sensitive as a child, but it faded as you grew older and remained untrained.”

Din huffed out a startled laugh. He’d remember if he floated objects or stopped fire as a kid, and that sure as sh*t never happened.

“I’m not kidding!” Luke laughed. “You may have some latent abilities, like an ability to sense betrayal, or being in the right place at the right time. Some Jedi texts call it ‘Force-favored’ instead of ‘Force-sensitive’.”

“Isn’t that just luck?” asked Din, his mind immediately going to the memory of finding Grogu in that sh*tty little building out in the middle of nowhere on Arvala-7. Of all the planets, of all the bounty hunters, of all the times —

“Can be!” Luke said with a laugh. “I still think my brother-in-law’s Force-favored, but we’ll never really know.”

The nav computer whined as the planet name — Despayre — popped up in Mando’a on the screen. Din thought the name was a little too on-the-nose, but he supposed there was something to be said about warning signs.

“Can you read Mando’a, too?” Din asked absentmindedly as he began landing procedures. “I know you speak it.”

“Yeah, about as much as can be expected,” Luke answered. “Don’t have a lot of practice, unfortunately. Maybe we’ll find some books when we finally get to Mandalore?”

Din didn’t think that much of anything survived the Empire’s siege on Mandalore, but he allowed Luke to keep that hope alive. Maybe he was right and there might be something left, after all.

“You remember your part in the plan, right?”

“Of course.”

12 Hours Earlier

"So, Cobb’s going to come in dressed up as an Imperial officer and introduce himself as such,” Luke began, “Once you pass the sniff test, Din will make the hand-off to Cobb. Once Cobb accepts custody of me, he’ll take me down to the interrogation cell at the end of the hall. These idiots put this cell against an outside wall, so that will act as our exit point. Cobb shuts the door to begin my interrogation, and that’s where Cobb will act as a lookout while I cut my way through the wall.”

Fennec cleared her throat. “How in the hell do you know where the cells at the end of the hall are?”

Typing away at the terminal controlling the holoprojector, Luke pulled up a diagram of what looked to be a basic Imperial prison. The basic floorplan floated above the table, slowly rotating.

“Whether it’s because of doctrine, a lack of imagination, or prefabricated kits, pretty much all Imperial buildings look the same. Every administration building looks the same, every prison’s made exactly the same,” Luke explained. “I’d also be willing to bet this building’s made from the cheapest material possible. I’ll have my lightsaber hidden in my clothing, but honestly, a good plasma cutter would likely do the trick.”

“We’ve any idea what their personnel count is?” Boba interjected. “If they have a whole garrison, this is gonna be a much bigger pain in the ass than you think.”

“This baby’s got laser cannons — why not just blow them up from the sky?” Peli asked.

“We’re trying to make this a stealth mission,” Din answered. “We want their money and we want to be gone. We don’t know their exact numbers, but I imagine since the fall of the Empire, their numbers are a little low. This is also Empire territory, so they’re comfortable. They’re not likely to see this coming.”

“Ain’t no one vacationing on a place called ‘Despayre’,” Cobb said.

4 Hours, 30 Minutes Later

“You ready?” Din asked as he clicked the magnetic cuffs onto Luke’s wrists. “If you’ve got any acting skills, now’s the time to bring them out.”

Luke shook his head. “You have anything better than magnetic cuffs? It’s messing with my prosthesis.”

“Your… what?”

Luke took his left hand and quickly pulled at the individual fingers of Luke’s leather glove until it finally came off. Din didn’t see an immediate difference, especially through the visor, but underneath the cuff he noticed a thin line where tanned skin met the paler skin of his hand. It was a little strange, but largely unnoticeable.

“Long story, would love to explain it, but in the meantime, can you get these off me?” Luke asked, shaking his wrists. “They’re making my hand hurt.”

Din quickly shucked the cuffs off Luke’s wrists and tossed them somewhere on the ship’s floor in panic. The harsh clang made Din wince, but the idea that his carelessness put Luke in pain made guilt burn hot in his throat. Why didn’t he know about Luke’s hand? How did he miss that? What in the galaxy could’ve taken Luke’s hand off like that?

“sh*t, I’m sorry,” he said as he grabbed onto Luke’s wrists, turning them over. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Luke replied, voice soft and soothing. Din wasn’t sure why Luke tried to comfort him, but he didn’t mind being on the receiving end of Luke’s gentleness. “Zipties work just fine, if you got ‘em.”

“They’re not going to buy a Jedi not being able to break through some plastic bands.”

“I think you’re severely overestimating the intelligence of your average stormtrooper.”

4 Hours Earlier

When Luke started stumbling over his feet as they approached the gates, boots crunching totteringly through the gravel path, Din had to tighten his grip on Luke’s bicep to keep him upright. He did tell Luke to act the part of the aggrieved bounty, but he certainly didn’t think he told Luke to ham it up quite this much. He nearly dropped Luke in surprise when he started yelling.

“That hurts!” Luke shouted as he struggled against his bonds and Din’s grip. “I had no idea Mandalorians were so… so cruel!” His voice turned into a snivel as Din continued to drag him towards the entrance.

“Shut up, already,” Din growled as he pulled Luke up back to his feet. “You’ll do what you’re told. You’re lucky I pulled you out of carbonite in the first place.”

Luke struggled more. “Working for the Empire is lower than low,” he continued, trying to drive an elbow into where he lacked any beskar plating. “I hope you f*cking choke on the money, you bastard!”

“I told you to shut your mouth!”

Luke shouted — whether in shock or pain, Din wasn’t sure — as Din threw him to the ground. He pulled his blaster out and pointed it right into Luke’s face. Luke’s eyes darted every which way but at Din, playing the part of a fresh-out-of-carbonite prisoner with aplomb.

“I don’t give a sh*t who owns this place,” Din continued. He swallowed, hoping Luke understood Din’s role. “Empire, Republic — it’s all the same to me. You’re just a payday. I tried being kind, figuring you’d like to be awake when they throw you in your cell, but I guess I’m too soft.” His blaster whined as he flicked the safety off. “I’m sure they’ll still pay me with a leg wound.”

The sound of the gates swinging open startled them both as two guards, blaster rifles pointed directly at them. Din disengaged his own blaster and backed away a half-step from Luke, carefully reholstering his weapon and raising his hands up.

“What the hell’s going on out here?” the guard on the right asked. “Who granted you the authority to come to this facility?”

Din slowly moved his hand to a pouch on his belt. “Don’t fire — I’m taking out a tracking fob,” he explained. “I’m here to collect on a bounty.”

The guard on the left lowered his weapon. “Of course, it had to be a Mando. Only way these assholes earn money nowadays,” he muttered to his partner. It wasn’t anything Din hadn’t heard a million times before. “Who’s the bounty?”

“Rogue Commander, Luke Skywalker,” Din answered. “You owe me a million credits.”

The first guard sauntered up to them, laughing as he moved his own weapon into the low ready. Another co*cky, useless asshole. “This guy’s supposed to be Luke Skywalker? Bull-f*ckin’-sh*t!”

“Looks a little scrawny,” the second guard added as he approached. “They didn’t feed him in the Rebellion or something?”

For whatever reason, they both found that remark hilarious, doubling over in cackling laughter. If he hadn’t been playing a part, Din would’ve groaned. Luke, for his part, looked perfectly offended — though Din thought that reaction might be real.

“Check his chain code,” Din snapped, adding as much authority and spite to his voice as he could allow. “I’m not a liar. I’m here to collect on his head, then I’m gone. Do we have a deal, or will I take him to someone else? You’re not the only interested party in the galaxy. Might go well at auction, too — the Hutts love paying for rare specimens like this.”

“Alright, alright,” the first guard said. “You Mandos sure are touchy about money, aren’t you? We’ll check this guy out, but you need to cool your jets. Stay out here, and we’ll have someone come out with your prize if he’s legit.”

Din shook his head. “Either I take him in, or I leave with him. You can explain to your bosses why you let the last Jedi out of your grasp.”

“Buddy, I told you to cool it with the f*ckin’ attitude,” the first guard said as he stepped towards Din, his chest puffed out and shoulders reared back. He only stopped when he put his helmet almost directly in front of Din’s face. “If you don’t start acting right, we’ll kill you and take your precious bounty for ourselves. How does that sound?”

In the time that it took for the guard to issue his threat, Din weighed his options. He thought about the plan and how they rehearsed it ad nauseum, the importance of sticking to the plan to the very letter. However, he did have to consider just how good it would feel to crash his head directly into this guy’s face.

He was a simple man, with simple vices.

“OW, f*ck!”

The first guard landed on the ground, the front of his helmet crumpled inwards and the plasticine glass shattered into some very unpleasant orifices; he screamed as he clawed at his head to get the offending piece of broken equipment off. Unfortunately for him, the crushed metal made that difficult. The other guard scrambled to raise his rifle up in retaliation, but Din had the draw on him and fired off a warning shot directly at the stormtrooper’s feet.

“Congrats on the promotion,” Din said. “Now, stop f*cking around and take me to whoever hands out money here.”

11 Hours, 7 Minutes Earlier

“Why did I get picked to play the part of an Imperial officer?” asked Cobb, his hand raised. “I don’t know if you’ve seen me lately, but I don’t exactly look aristocratic. I got about as much schooling as ol’ Fett here has looks.”

“f*ck you,” Boba snarled.

Luke smiled. “You’re a charmer. You’d probably talk an anooba out of his nest,” he said with a laugh. “No one else but you could pull this off and get out of there unscathed.”

Din remembered his own attempt at passing as an Imperial officer and how that turned out.

“Besides, Boba and Fennec are absolutely wanted by every known entity in the galaxy, and we need Peli as the getaway driver,” Luke added. “Just imagine what an arrogant, sociopathic asshole would sound like, and you’ve got the part.”

3 Hours, 45 Minutes Earlier

Getting Cobb in place proved to be the trickiest part, but Luke somehow managed to get ahold of the uniform — he said something about a pleasant talk with a nice man, and didn’t think much of it. They got Cobb into the uniform with little incident, the fit itself a little loose, but a few artful tucks helped hide the evidence. Din had no confidence whatsoever in their cover story, but as he couldn’t come up with a better one himself, he had to play along.

As soon as they stepped into the prison, Din looked around and took note of his surroundings. His initial assumptions proved correct — these guys had no real discipline, no real sense of duty. He thought he saw a guard playing a game on a small console, but couldn’t say for sure at the angle he stood at. All the better for them.

“Sarge, we have a bounty hunter here to claim the prize for a Luke Skywalker,” their escort said as they finally reached the main desk. “Says he’s the last Jedi — whatever the hell that means.”

The guard at the desk finally looked up. “Oh, that’s a pretty big name. Verify his identity or whatever, and pay the man his money.”

Din’s escort left his side to approach the counter and speak with the guard, their harsh whispers growing more and more frantic. They ran the tracking fob at their terminal behind the desk, muttering back and forth as it pulled up Luke’s information.

“We can’t authorize a payment that big!” Din overheard through the enhanced microphones in his headset. “We gotta call the new lieutenant colonel; he just got transferred here.”

“This is going a lot better than expected,” Luke whispered. “Did you have to cave that guy’s face in, though?”

“Of course,” Din replied. “Weren’t you the one that talked about establishing dominance?”

“Wrong lesson to take from that, but I can’t argue with the results.”

10 Hours, 51 Minutes Earlier

“So, the code cylinders, the tracking fob — that stuff doesn’t just come out of nowhere, you know,” Peli said. “Where do you plan on getting them?”

Fennec raised her hand. “I have a couple contacts that owe me. The tracking fob’s easy to get. Apparently, no one wanted to try and go after ol’ Rogue Commander here,” she said, gesturing vaguely in Luke’s direction. “The code cylinders have been cheap on the black markets ever since the Battle of Jakku. Seems like no one’s really trying to break into Imperial buildings anymore.”

“Do those codes even work anymore?” asked Cobb.

Luke chuckled. “They don’t ever change their codes. Now, you need to get busy learning your new identity — the codes will be useless unless you can sell the story. Trust me, I know.”

3 Hours, 40 Minutes Earlier

“Hey, uh, sit tight while we wait for our commander,” Din’s escort said. “It’s standard operating procedure to have one of our field-grade officers authorize these sorts of exchanges, and he just got in earlier today. Shouldn’t take long.”

Din grunted in acknowledgment, dragging Luke with him over to a nearby bench to wait for Cobb. According to the plan, Cobb would take quite a while; he had to keep up the appearance of a freshly arrived battalion commander, still in-processing and transitioning into the new job. Luke said he walked Cobb through basic military decorum — Officer 101, he called it — but Din didn’t quite have the same level of confidence in Cobb’s acting abilities. He found Cobb Vanth to be a smart, capable man; he just had no frame of reference for his exploits in espionage. It’s hard to lie to a krayt dragon, after all.

“Hey, could you get me and my captor here some water?” asked Luke as he stood up from the bench.

Din grabbed him by his waistband and pulled him back down to the bench, pulling a soft sound of surprise out of Luke.

“Jeez, Mando — you don’t have to manhandle the guy,” one guard said as he stood up. “We can get him some water.”

“He tried to take my hands off with his stupid laser sword,” Din replied. “I’ll treat him how I like. Get him his water if that’s what you want, but you’ll regret showing this thing any sort of kindness.”

The sergeant at the desk chuckled. “This little guy? He looks half as harmless as a lothcat. You can ease up on him a little.”

“Mandos are cruel bastards. It’s why the Empire didn’t want ‘em around anymore; they messed with the peace,” the video game guard said. “Surprised he didn’t kill the guy.”

Din felt his jaw clench uncomfortably as he flexed his fingers, the squeak of the leather grating to his ears.

“Nah, he wanted the money too badly,” the desk sergeant said. “Probably arrest an old lady if it meant a paycheck, huh?”

“He did threaten to arrest my aunt Peli when he found me on Tatooine,” Luke interjected. “He’s very rude. Nearly tried to cut off my circulation with these cuffs, too.”

“You mean to tell me the last Jedi, the guy they said killed Darth Vader himself, got waylaid by a piece of plastic around his wrists?” asked the desk sergeant. “I mean, your chain code says you’re Luke Skywalker, but come on.”

Din remembered hearing the name ‘Darth Vader’ several times when dragging bounties back to clients, but never paid much attention; it never seemed relevant to him unless this Darth Vader guy had some sort of price on his head. That particular fob never made it his way, so Din never paid him much mind. He figured this guy must’ve been some sort of big shot in the Empire if killing him made Luke a legend. He’d have to ask about it later.

“Plastic cuts us off from the Force, I’m afraid,” Luke lied. “Did you ever see Darth Vader anywhere near the stuff?”

“Good thing all the walls in here are made of plastic,” the desk sergeant said. He reached behind him and knocked on the wall for emphasis, the soft clicking of plastoid against solid plasteel confirming his statement. “Guess you brought him to the right place, Mando.”

“Oh man,” Luke whispered, hiding a barely concealed snicker behind a sneeze.

Din felt his gut clench in barely restrained laughter. Cobb needed to hurry up before he lost his mind.

10 Hours, 42 Minutes Earlier

“So, Fennec and I will be your extra muscle,” said Boba as he peeled apart a jogan fruit. “Do you want us waiting up here on the ship, or will we be stationed elsewhere?”

Luke pulled up yet another map, this time with the prison building displayed as a smaller point on a larger compound. “There’s an old abandoned cantina, an officer’s club, over here within eyesight of the prison. I think that would serve as a good hideout and a decent rally point in case anything goes awry. We’ll create the distraction at the front gates with Din turning me in, so that can be when you guys slip in unannounced. Miss Shand, does this building give you enough line of sight and cover?”

Fennec tapped the projection to spin it around. “It’s no sniper’s nest, but it’ll work. I can see the west wing of the prison and the front gate from here.”

“So, what’s the exit strategy? You cut yourself out, and then what?” asked Peli.

2 Hours Earlier

If Din had yet another stormtrooper ask him for advice for how to get a better qualification score at a firing range (“Have you just tried shooting better?”) or what his favorite type of blaster was (“Any kind that I can pick up and kill someone with”), he would probably take Luke’s lightsaber and just start cutting through the walls himself.

“Alright, alright,” said the desk sergeant, “I gotta know — who was the hottest bounty you’ve ever picked up? Get any hot Twi’lek girls? Maybe a cute Togruta?”

All the stormtroopers in the room started laughing rambunctiously, with sidebar commentary choked out in between howls of laughter. Up until that moment, Luke mostly zoned out here and there; Din had to look over at times to make sure Luke hadn’t fallen asleep. With the loud noise and change in topic, Luke seemed to finally take interest in their conversation. He turned towards Din with a curious look on his face.

“What was the hottest bounty you ever picked up, sir?” asked Luke, the corner of his lips quivering with a slight downturn.

Din suddenly felt extremely guilty, and he wasn’t sure why.

“I wouldn’t know,” Din answered. “Bounties aren’t romantic interests. I’m a professional. Half the time, I barely pay attention to their names. They’re a chain code and a prize.”

“Oh, come on,” said the video game guard. “You’re not a droid under all that iron, are you? Even if you’re not interested, surely you know what looks good and what doesn’t. You can’t tell me you never picked up a hot girl before.”

“Yeah!”

Din shot another look at Luke, still seeming perturbed. Did Luke have some moral code against bounty hunters and their targets getting together? Why would Luke have a particular rule about that? Still, he had to come up with something to keep these goons entertained; Cobb still hadn’t arrived and Din knew he had to stay in their good graces while they waited.

“I picked up a runaway princess,” Din began. “Her parents wanted her back, so they put out a bounty on her. They wanted her alive, well, and happy; so that meant no carbonite. Whenever I picked her up, I had to just hold her in my ship until we got back to her home planet.”

“Now that’s a story right there,” said the escort soldier.

“What did she look like?” asked the video game guard.

Din hummed thoughtfully. “She had long blonde hair. Blue eyes, small stature, wore simple robes to hide her identity,” he said. “I found her in a cantina, of all places, wearing a hood over her head like that would prevent me finding her. I guess she thought no one would look for a princess in a dirty place like that.”

“You dog,” said the escort soldier. “A blonde? I’d accept a fob for her already.”

Luke furrowed his eyebrows as Din spoke, but his displeasure seemed to wane; Din took that as a minor victory. He figured Luke approved of Din’s respect towards this fictitious princess, leaving out the lewd and titillating details. If Luke made any other connection to Din’s story, well, that was entirely on him.

“When I finally caught up to her, she didn’t put up a fight,” Din continued. “She wanted me to take her on this adventure she planned instead of turning her in, but I told her no; it would be a way for her to escape and I didn’t have the fuel for that kind of thing. She promised me a better ship, a whole fortune if I ignored her bounty, but she didn’t have her own money. I turned her down.”

The desk sergeant scoffed. “You had the chance to go on a romantic fling with a beautiful princess, and you didn’t because of money? Dude, what?”

“I’m a professional,” Din said. “She came with me with no further argument, I took her home, and I got paid. That was it.”

“You ever wonder what life would’ve been like if you went on her journey?” asked Luke.

Din supposed he didn’t really have to wonder.

The front door to the reception area opened with the sound of pressurized air escaping. The troopers rushed to their feet before the adjutant could even announce the presence of the new battalion commander in the room.

“I hear tell we have a long-awaited bounty here?”

Din took a deep breath in as Cobb’s familiar twang filled the room, slowly exhaling as he let go of all the tension holding his body together. His jaw ached from clenching it closed for so long. The final act of the plan would begin, they could get the money, and then they could leave this hellhole.

“Sir, we have a Mandalorian bounty hunter here that says he has Luke Skywalker in custody,” the desk sergeant responded, his posture in a perfect position of attention. “We verified the chain code’s legitimacy, but SOP states we cannot release that amount without a commander’s authorization. We just need your approval and we’ll remand Skywalker into custody.”

Cobb hummed thoughtfully as he fully stepped away from the door and stopped right in front of both Din and Luke. Din had to admit that Cobb pulled off the overall villainous officer look fairly well, despite having to lose some of his precious stubble to fit Imperial uniform regulations.

“Mandalorian, huh? You got a name, Mandalorian?” asked Cobb.

“None I like anyone having,” Din responded. “You can call me ‘Mando’, just like everyone else.”

Cobb snorted. “Well, I don’t mind you having my name, Mando. I’m Lieutenant Colonel Aldemar Croscan, the new garrison commander. I want to personally thank you for bringing in this deranged, fanatical enemy to the Empire. We’ll see to it that he comes to justice.”

“Sir, what did this guy do that was so bad?” asked the escort soldier. “He seems nice to me.”

“Did I ask for questions, trooper?” Cobb said, voice calm yet thoroughly venomous. “Instead, let me ask this — how old are you?”

“I’m 19 years standard, sir!”

The look of horror that ran across Luke’s face nearly broke Din’s heart. He only knew scant things about Luke’s past in the Galactic Civil War, but he remembered Luke fought in the Battle of Yavin and that was nine years ago.

If children grew up to fight in their parents’ wars, what was it all for?

“A child, then,” Cobb said, contempt thick in his voice. Din wanted him to reel it back just a little, but it was too late now. “Why don’t you go ask some of your more senior non-commissioned officers why Skywalker here is ‘that bad’? I’m sure 3857 would love to tell you about the squadmates he lost on the second Death Star, or 2932, whose platoon Skywalker wiped out completely on Endor. This man wrought horrors on the Empire, and he’ll pay for them soon enough.”

The video game guard quickly pulled the escort out of the room and back outside.

Cobb turned his attention straight back to the desk sergeant. “Sergeant, I want you to release the funds for Skywalker’s bounty to Mando here, then let him be on his way. I’ll escort this zealot to the interrogation room personally.”

“Sir, it’s standard procedure to have at least two guards with any prisoner, especially if Skywalker’s as dangerous as you say,” said the desk sergeant. “We want to look out for your safety.”

Luke cleared his throat. “I’m no harm to anyone in these zipties,” he said. “Plastic cuts me off from the Force, remember? Weak as a lothkitten.”

“I gave you your orders, Sergeant,” Cobb growled. “You’ll do as you’re told, or would you like to be drawn up on charges for insubordination?”

“No, sir!”

“Then you know what to do,” Cobb said as he snaked a hand around Luke’s upper arm. “That’ll be all, Sergeant.”

10 Hours, 37 Minutes Earlier

“Din will be waiting in the Firespray ship, engine running while Cobb and I escape out of the wall. We'll rendezvous with Boba and Fennec at the abandoned cantina, then we’ll all head over quietly to the ship. Din will discreetly fly us out of there, credits in hand and the Imps none the wiser,” explained Luke. “It’ll all work out fine.”

“Sure, but what if it doesn’t work out fine?” asked Boba.

“Between two Mandalorians, a Master Assassin, a marshal, and a Jedi, surely we’ll work something out,” Luke answered.

1 Hour Earlier

The sun had long set on Despayre, with the only light outside of the Firespray-class ship being the lights from the compound. Din had the engines on standby, just waiting for the signal to drop the ramp for the rest of the team. So far, the only radio chatter came from Peli up in the Tantive IV to establish coordinates and ensure she had enough cloud cover to keep the ship in low-earth orbit without someone spotting them. Luckily for them, she discovered some sort of anti-radar cloaking function. Any moment now, Boba and Fennec would show up with Luke and Cobb, and they could put this whole thing behind them.

A short crackle over the radio broke Din out of his reverie. He waited for another transmission before trying to reach out; they tested the frequency’s encryption before the mission, so it had to be either Peli or Boba.

“Djarin, it’s Fett!” Boba yelled at last, voice coming in harsh.

“Fett, this is Djarin. What’s your status?” asked Din.

“We need backup over here,” Boba responded. “Send the ship back up to the Corvette and get over here!”

“Why not bring the ship to you?” Din asked as he started the engine in earnest. “I can shoot you out of there.”

“These assholes have grenades, and I don’t want any marks on that ship!” answered Fett. “You’ll have the cover of night. Now, come on!”

“I’m on the way.”

As he ran through every iteration of every single swear word he could think of in the twelve languages he knew, Din set the nav computer’s course to allow the ship to quietly, easily drift up to the Tantive IV’s hangar hold. Once the ship began to leave the ground, Din stepped off the closing ramp and activated his jetpack, racing back towards the compound with a light repeating blaster he took from Boba’s stash.

He had to admit, Boba did have a point about the kama thing.

55 Minutes Earlier

When Din finally arrived back at the compound, it looked like pure chaos. Sirens blaring, plasma bolts screaming through the air, showers of dirt blown sky-high from grenades hitting the ground. He quickly spotted Cobb, Boba, and Fennec in a tight circle, trying to slowly back their way out towards the gate. They looked generally unharmed, but panic immediately singed through Din’s nerves as he realized Luke wasn’t with them. He couldn’t see Luke’s figure anywhere, not even in the floodlights streaming from the guard tower.

That burning panic turned to cold hatred as Din paused in mid-air to load a grenade in the rifle-mounted launcher. If he found Luke harmed in any way, he didn’t care how many buildings would burn under his hand — they would all pay.

Din launched the first grenade, sending the squad approaching his crew scattered across the courtyard. Without pause, he threw the rifle’s switch onto the three-round burst mode and began firing down on the mass of stormtroopers that emerged from another building on the compound. He found a small, sick joy watching them run around and breaking ranks in sheer terror. Din wondered, for a half moment, what Luke would think about such thoughts — he’d ask him later after he got them all back onto the ship.

Once the herd thinned itself out, Din flew down to his crew’s position. He immediately shoved Fennec and Cobb behind himself and Boba, ready to use their combined armor to shield them from any further blasts.

“It’s about time!” Boba shouted as he laid down continuous covering fire. “Glad you brought the grenade launcher!”

“Where’s Luke?!” Din shouted as he returned fire, falling back on his training and alternating his fire with Boba’s.

“Something went wrong after I took him back to the interrogation room, and we started running out of the building,” Cobb said. “He told me to go on ahead; said something about feeling something weird in the building and needing to get it.”

“sh*t!” Din growled as he loaded another grenade into the launcher. “I’m gonna blast my way into the building to go get him, watch my back!”

“Djarin, wait!” Fennec yelled. She put her arm over his shoulder and pointed up.

Din followed the line of Fennec’s finger through the chaos and saw nothing, just a void of blackness against a sea of stars. His eyes darted around, looking for something out there until a brilliant green light illuminated Luke’s serene face. Luke’s cloak billowed out around him and surrounded him in shadow, as if Luke emerged from the primordial night itself — just as eternal and powerful and unyielding.

Time slowed down around Luke, the blaster fire raining down around them a mere distant memory as Luke crouched down and launched himself impossibly high into the air. For a moment, Din thought that Luke might leave the atmosphere.

Luke reached the zenith of his trajectory and slowed down, turning himself gracefully in the air as he fell back towards the ground. The light of his sword became a comet’s tail, a startling hum screaming through the night as it sliced the air apart. Din suddenly thought about the legends the elders would tell the covert’s younglings, about avenging angels and masters of battle tearing through armies singlehandedly. Spirits of pure vengeance.

He used to think the stories were about Mandalorians. Not anymore.

Feeling the hair stand up on the back of his neck, Din motioned for the rest of his crew to move out of the immediate area. Fennec, Boba, and Cobb ran past Din to seek shelter behind a small building on the compound. As for himself, Din only moved a few steps back — something in him felt as though he needed to witness this.

Suddenly, the air pressure dropped and Din felt his ears pop within his helmet. It grew harder to breathe as Luke approached the ground, and then a shockwave sent Din flying a short distance back as he landed straight onto his ass. The blaster rifle in his hand flew out of his hands, landing meters away. He quickly scrambled back up to rest on his elbows, straining to see Luke again and only finding dust and strewn stormtroopers in the wake of Luke’s landing. It looked like a seismic charge just detonated in the middle of the courtyard.

An invisible pressure left Luke hovering a short distance above the ground in the impact radius. Luke’s cloak continued to float around him as the stormtroopers closest to Luke tried to crawl away. Din swore he saw sparks of static electricity spark off the troopers’ helmets. He felt it run up and down on the scant bit of exposed skin along his wrists and the underside of his chin.

Once Luke’s feet finally touched the earth, the blaster fire resumed — all of it aimed towards Luke. Grabbing his own blaster, Din scrambled up to his feet and took off towards the fight. The logical part of his brain screamed at him to leave, but every combat-honed instinct urged him towards the sounds of battle. Din wasn’t sure what drove him to stay — maybe a strange sense of duty, maybe something more tender that didn’t have a name — but it thrummed deep inside of his chest like a small bird beating its wings against his ribcage. He flicked the safety off his blaster with practiced ease and charged forward.

Before he even got to the perimeter of the fight, Din felt something like a hand gently push into the middle of his chest and guide him back. That was about the time that the first bodies started flying through the air and landing haphazardly across the courtyard.

“Din, get everyone onto the ship!” Luke yelled as he swung his sword and deflected various bolts with ease. Another swing sliced an approaching trooper’s shock baton in two. “I’ll be right behind you!”

“I’m not leaving you!” Din yelled back.

With a wave of his hand, Luke thoughtlessly lifted three stormtroopers into the air and tossed them aside like so many ragdolls. “I’m fine — take everyone back and get the ship going. Trust me!”

Din wanted to argue, wanted to plead, but relented and turned heel to run towards the building where the rest of the crew hid. He never much kept to any gods or faiths outside his own Creed, but he said a prayer to anyone out there that would listen that Luke would make it out of there. He had to trust his First Knight.

He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, hoping that in some way, getting to the crew faster would mean Luke could get out of the throng sooner. Catching the glint of light off Boba’s visor, Din beelined towards them and stopped at the edge of the building, his lungs burning with exertion.

“Djarin, where’s Skywalker?” Fennec yelled out over the noise. “We need to leave!”

“He’s distracting them,” Din gasped out, still struggling to catch his breath. “Fett, you take Shand and I’ll take Vanth; we’ll jet out of here and get back to the ship. I’ll radio up to Peli to meet us halfway. We’ll enter through the magcon field; once you’re safe, I’ll come back for him. Got it?”

Everyone quickly agreed. Within moments, Din had his arms wrapped around Cobb’s waist from behind and got them both airborne. He looked over his right shoulder to see Boba holding Fennec backwards by the straps of her armor, her rifle pointed at the compound below them to take out any impending threats that might try to shoot them out of the sky.

Cobb let out a loud cheer as the Tantive IV finally descended from the upper atmosphere and reached a hover of only a couple hundred meters above the ground. They quickly phased through the magcon field, and Boba and Din dropped their passengers off on the floor of the cargo hold. Before anyone could begin any sort of assessment for damage, Din turned to leave.

“Djarin, wait!” Boba yelled.

Din looked back to see Boba walking towards him with his outstretched weapon, an EE-3 carbine rifle. “One little blaster ain’t gonna do you out there, so take this,” Boba said with a tired laugh behind his voice. “Go and get your man, Lord Mandalore.”

He’d have to ask Boba later why he kept saying ‘your man’, but that was a topic for much later. If they made it out of there alive.

With a nod and a wave, Din took off running back to the exit and, much like Luke did moments earlier, Din jumped up into the air and dived through the magcon field. He allowed himself a few seconds of pure freefall, the pull of gravity churning his stomach before activating his jetpack and rocketing off back to the compound, where Luke’s lightsaber still flashed its way across the battlefield. From this height, Luke looked like lightning dancing its way through the night — an oncoming storm, beautiful and frightening. Sublime.

Unbidden, Boba’s words came rushing back to him.

I need you to know that whatever Skywalker showed you and whatever you’ve experienced with him and your son wasn’t even scratching the surface.

Boba likely didn’t know how correct he was.

As the earth rushed up to meet him and the compound came back into focus, Din only found a token resistance as the battle died down and the blaster fire grew sparse. Were this back in his Fighting Corps days, Din would’ve simply tossed a few grenades and left it alone. Luke preferred a much more personal touch, it seemed, as his blade made contact with another stormtrooper’s weapon and that same invisible Force threw Luke’s would-be attacker across the courtyard.

Din immediately thought of the mysterious red-haired Jedi as he tore his way through the Dark Troopers on Gideon’s ship. If that man could fight his way through those monsters, Din shuddered to think what Luke could do in a real challenge. To think he ever once doubted Luke’s ability to fight.

Finding a spot not too far away from the fracas, Din finally landed and held up Boba’s blaster in a low-ready stance.

“Luke!” Din bellowed across the yard. “We need to go before they send reinforcements!”

“Everyone’s safe?” Luke answered with a yell of his own. A plasma bolt froze in mid-air as Luke raised his hand to stop it. He hardly looked fazed, barely a hair out of place as he gave Din a relieved smile. Din felt his heart stop along with it. “Will you give me a second to grab something? I put it away so it wouldn’t get hurt in the mess.”

“…Whatever you need to do,” Din said, staring at the bolt hanging in the air. “I’ll be here to take you to the ship?”

“Be right back!”

Luke threw his hand down, throwing the bolt back towards its owner. The surprised yell that followed quickly died out. With hardly any real effort, Luke made another impossible jump back to the top of the building. A few moments later, Luke took a running leap off the building and gently floated down — almost as if an invisible staircase materialized beneath him. It was graceful and strange all at once, and nothing like Din had ever seen in his life.

Nothing would likely ever compare to something like Luke Skywalker, Din thought.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Luke asked as he finally reached the ground.

Din shook himself as he came back to reality. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Settling his prize in his arms, Luke gently pulled Boba’s blaster out of Din’s hands. “I’ll hold onto that, you hold onto me, and we’ll get the hell out of here, yeah?”

“You can’t fly on your own?” Din half-joked as he put his arms under the crook of Luke’s knees and across his upper back. He groaned as he lifted Luke up into his chest and secured him there. “Thought you could do everything.”

“Sadly, no,” said Luke as he settled into Din’s hold. “Let’s get out of here, though — we’ve got places to be!”

Chapter 5: Pellinore

Chapter Text

“Mando, are you gonna get your ass over here and party with us or what?”

“You do know he has a real name, right?”

“Next thing you’re gonna tell me is he sometimes takes that damn helmet off around people.”

“He does.”

“WHAT.”

“Why are you on this trip again?”

Din laughed to himself as he stretched out in one of the softer chairs of the ship’s conference room, content to let the sounds of their victory celebration carry out around him. He’d tried to catch a nap in the chair after they finally left Despayre’s atmosphere, switching his visor’s settings to the darkest sun blockers, but Cobb and Fennec both scolded him for sleeping on the job when it should’ve been his role as king to host a celebratory feast. His groans held no weight, and so he sat in the corner with the party-planning committee agreeing he served better as festive decoration.

He wasn’t really sure what, exactly, Cobb expected from him as far as how to ‘party’, but for his knees, partying meant stretching his legs out in front of him and rolling his ankles until they cracked. If Din sank any lower in the seat, he could probably pop some of the vertebral joints in his low back and get that tough spot sitting right in between his shoulder blades to finally realign — now that was a good time.

Looking over at the rest of the crew carrying on, Din spotted Peli already asleep in a corner and curled up with two of Boba’s pit droids under each arm. Cobb and Boba, meanwhile, each had a bottle of booze taped to each of their hands while Fennec moderated whatever game they played. Din noticed that Cobb still wore the Imperial uniform they stole for him, but with the garrison cap on the table and the fancy uniform jacket worn as a strange sort of wig. Din wasn’t sure what led up to that nonsense, and he loved knowing it wasn’t his business.

“You holding up, Lord Mandalore?”

Din looked up from his feet to find Luke holding out a glass of spotchka for him. He groaned as his shoulder protested the stretch upwards to take the drink.

“Yeah, just getting old.”

Luke laughed as he pulled a chair from the main table to join Din’s own. “Aren’t we all?”

Din snorted loudly. “I’m not listening to that sh*t from you, wizard. What the hell was that all about, flying through the air? ‘Old’, my ass.”

In truth, Din loved watching Luke tear through a battlefield single-handedly. It was a thing of beauty, a work of art. Had Luke been born in another time, another life, he would’ve made a wonderful Mandalorian. None of that was Luke’s business, however, so Din kept it to himself.

Laughing from over his own cup, Luke slunk down into the chair and gave Din a pointed look. “You’re doing great, you know?” he said as his laughter finally settled down. “Seriously — you’re amazing, Din.”

“I’m not the one out here flying around or cutting through hordes of enemies with a laser sword,” Din said.

Luke gave him another one of those looks that screamed warning bells in Din’s mind, like Luke had some sort of idea or design already formulating itself behind his eyes. “You may not be Force sensitive, but you have a jetpack and a laser sword of your own. Should you feel like it, we can get you flying and cutting through hordes of enemies in no time.”

“We’ll see about all that,” Din said, the mere thought of doing any sort of combat training making his knees ache again.

“I meant what I said, though — you’re doing great,” Luke said. “It takes a special kind of person to look at a sh*t sandwich of a situation and take charge. You managed to get this ragtag group to pull off probably one of the stupidest missions anyone could undertake, and we managed to get out of there with the money and no one else hurt. That was you, Din — whether you think so or not, you made this happen.”

Din mulled that thought over and over, letting it tumble like water flowing over a cliff and down to a stream below. He fell back on his usual tactic — teasing Luke until he changed the subject. “Would’ve been easier had I been able to just float around, though.”

“I’m hurting too, you grumpy bastard. That wasn’t easy,” Luke groused back as he rolled his shoulders.

“You can’t call me a bastard,” Din complained. “I’m the king, or whatever.”

“A real bastard of a king,” Luke shot back. “You practice being that ornery, or does it come naturally?”

“I guess you just bring out the worst in me,” Din grumbled as he tipped the bottom of his helmet up and took a sip of the liquor Luke brought. It tingled pleasantly. “Besides, shouldn’t you be over there, living it up with the rest of the boozehounds? They might have enough tape left over for you.”

Luke shook his head. “Stars, no. I played that game exactly once in my life, and I’m not looking to repeat that night,” he said. “Besides, I’m sure they don’t need me around to bring down the party.”

“Is this a side effect from over-extending your abilities, self-pity?” Din asked. “Tell you what — the first thing I’m doing as king of the newly established Mandalore is banning all Jedi and their wizardry from my court.”

“Even me?” Luke said, eyebrow raised in clear amusem*nt.

Din followed the line from Luke’s sparkling eyes down to the upturned quirk of his lips. Even looking tired and rumpled, Luke simply shone — which only made Din’s bones hurt all the more.

“Oh, especially you,” Din replied as he took another sip. “A menace to polite society.”

“I’ll keep that in mind should you ever need my wizardry services,” said Luke as he nudged Din’s foot with his own. Din nudged him right back, reclaiming his little area in his sitting area. A menace, indeed.

“If Mandalore needs your magic, we might as well fall again.” Din paused to polish off the last of the spotchka from the glass, the tingling building up into a burn down his throat.

Luke laughed loudly as Din managed to wriggle his way back up into a better posture, which turned into giggles when Din let out a loud groan. As he settled into a better position, Din watched as Luke summoned a whole, untouched bottle of spotchka from the conference room table. Once it settled into Luke’s hands, he popped open the cork and held it out for Din to proffer his glass.

“Some medicine for your aching back, my liege,” Luke chuckled as he refilled Din’s glass.

“Do you know why my back hurts?” asked Din as he brought the glass to his lips.

“Because of your advanced age, Your Majesty?”

“Because I’ve been carrying this mission the whole time and it’s hell on my lumbar,” Din retorted as he knocked the entire glass of spotchka back in one go. Luke fell into another fit of laughter as Din sat up and let out another guttural groan from the sudden burn. If his liver didn’t hate him later, his stomach damn sure would. “Also, f*ck you for calling me old.”

“Age, in the lives we lead, is a mark of honor,” Luke said, his playful grin still firmly in place. He made a show of putting the stopper back onto the spotchka bottle. “I’m cutting you off, Your Worshipfulness; I don’t need you grumbling at me tomorrow morning.”

Din wanted to argue with Luke, wanted to regale him with the times he managed to drink nearly the entire covert under the table in his younger days, but the telltale signs of a flush spread across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. It occurred to him, at that very moment, that he hadn’t touched a single drop of anything harder than broth since he found the kid. The last drink he had was at Boba’s palace, and that was only a small shot of tihaar. He just knocked back two full glasses of spotchka, and had hardly anything on his stomach. By Din’s estimation, he had maybe ten minutes before the room started spinning and his legs quit working on him.

Tomorrow morning would be its own special little adventure, Din already knew. Only time would tell if he would have another adventure just getting around the ship and back up to his quarters.

“Are you alright, Din?” asked Luke as he put the bottle down on the floor.

Din furrowed his brows in an attempt to assess if he was, in fact, alright. “I think so? I might be a little drunk.” The back of his head began to feel disconnected from the rest of his body and everything just felt loose. Stars, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this out of it.

“…already?” asked Luke as he stood up from his chair.

“Oh, don’t do that so fast,” Din said, shaking his head. “No fast movements.”

He cringed as he remembered the last time he had to clean blood out of his helmet; he didn’t want to imagine what it would take to get vomit out.

“Why don’t we get you to bed — I’ll say you’re just worn out,” Luke said, serious and soothing. Din liked soothing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how much I gave you.”

“Not your fault,” Din replied, the edges of his reality fuzzing over a bit. “Used to be good at this.”

Luke laughed as he held out his hands for Din to take. “Din, I don’t think being good at drinking is a normal achievement.”

“Spoken like a true civilian,” Din scoffed as he slowly stood up. Once he got to his feet, he gripped hard onto Luke’s forearms for balance. He wasn’t entirely sure how many poor decisions led to this very moment, but he knew he regretted all of them. “The Mando’a word for non-Mandalorians is aruetti. The Mando’a word for your kind is jetii.”

“Is that a fact?” Luke asked as he slipped an arm around Din’s waist.

Din stumbled a little as Luke pulled him in closer to his own body. “Huh. It rhymes. Wonder why that is.”

“Come on, crazy,” Luke said as they finally moved away from the chairs. “We’re getting you to bed.”

Din only grumbled as Luke led him surreptitiously out of the room and out into the ship’s corridor.

With Luke’s guidance, they finally managed to get up the narrow spiral staircase one slow step at a time to the diplomat’s quarters. He didn’t think it to be feasible, but Din swore he became more and more drunk with every movement they made. Whatever faint, pleasant buzz he felt in the conference room left as soon as the spinning came. He didn’t think death would come to him this way, but if it stopped the nausea, he welcomed it with open arms.

“We’re here,” Luke said.

“Mff.”

“Hey, I’m gonna move you here, alright?” asked Luke as he shifted Din’s arm off his shoulder. “I gotta get at the door panel.”

“Nnh.”

Din felt the world turn on its axis underneath him as Luke twisted his whole body around until Luke had Din in some sort of strange hug, both of them chest to chest. Din struggled to stay upright during their strange little dance. He tried to pull back as Luke moved to the side, but Din completely overestimated his ability to maintain his balance and grabbed onto Luke’s shoulders for support.

That worked for the half second that they both remained on their feet.

Holding out his hands to brace himself, Din squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the loud thunk and the sharp pain of impact on the cold metal floor. When he finally opened his eyes, Din realized the only thing he landed on was Luke’s chest as Luke groaned beneath him.

“Din, are you alright?” asked Luke as he tapped at Din’s shoulder.

“Gff,” Din replied, mustering the best response he could under the circ*mstances. He closed his eyes again as he rested on Luke’s chest, feeling a little bad about just laying there with his full weight on Luke’s slighter frame, yet fearing his stomach’s take on the situation. The prognosis looked poor.

“Would it be alright if I sat you up onto your knees?” Luke asked as he shifted himself underneath Din and placed his palms underneath Din’s shoulders to push him upwards. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“Yhh.”

Before Din could protest in earnest, he felt himself slowly rise up from Luke’s body and up into a seated position with his legs still folded beneath him. He almost lost his cookies on the way up, but once he sat back down, his stomach stopped screaming at him. At this point in the experience, Din knew he would owe Luke a massive apology. Maybe Din could buy him something. Would Luke like more tea? Din could buy him more tea. Whatever kind he likes. Fancy teas, even.

Din tried to promise Luke whatever he wanted out of gratitude for caring for his drunk ass, but all that seemed to come out was “tea” and “fancy”. Luke, for his part, didn’t dare stand up or make any fast movements. After a beat, Din wasn’t sure if the flutter beneath his ribcage was from the alcohol or from the way Luke held onto the sides of his helmet and found his eyes through the visor.

“You still with me, Din?” asked Luke as he stared straight into Din’s eyes.

Did Luke know just how pretty his eyes looked under fluorescent lighting? Did he know that he had four of them?

“Shm.”

“That works for me,” Luke said as he moved his hands from Din’s helmet and onto his shoulders. “You ready to stand back up?”

“Mmm-mmm,” Din groaned. He leaned his head forward and grasped onto the closest thing he could find — which happened to be Luke’s thighs — and rested his head against Luke’s own forehead. “Please. Stay.”

“Yeah, we can stay,” Luke whispered. Din promised to buy him a whole crate of fancy teas.

“Thank you.”

Din didn’t remember much after that, except Luke muttering to himself and feeling a lot lighter and cooler than normal.

Din fully expected to feel like death twice warmed over when he finally woke up, but he felt perfectly pleasant, somehow. The edges of a headache still lingered and the dim track lighting around the baseboards of the room weren’t great on his vision, but he could feel so much worse.

I feel better than I deserve, he thought as he stretched his right leg and felt his hip pop just right.

A soft purring sensation tickled at his chest and dragged his attention fully into the living world. Blearily, Din looked down at his chest and found Luke’s weird little friend sitting there, looking about as happy as any other creature could possibly be, all things considered. Din couldn’t fathom why anything would want to cuddle up next to someone in his state — he probably reeked of booze still — but the bird thing (he completely forgot what Luke called it) looked so cute that it could steal his wallet and he wouldn’t be mad about it.

It stared at him, unblinking, canting its head from side to side as if it wanted to size him up. Din mimicked its movements as much as his head would allow. It reminded him of the games he and Grogu would play on the Razor Crest, especially after the kid woke up from a nap and demanded entertainment.

He wondered if Luke knew the bird was in his room. Thinking of Luke made the memories of last night flood back to him — and the nausea kicked back up, this time thinking about how much he’d have to grovel in front of Luke to beg his forgiveness. Hopefully, the crate of fancy teas would suffice as an apology.

“It’s time to rise and shine, tin can!”

Shocked, Din stirred out of his daze and his eyes finally landed on someone sitting in his chair, blurry and a little off-blue. He figured that was just the track lighting.

“Did you not hear me?” the voice continued, irritated and just plain mean. “We gotta talk!”

“Luke?” asked Din. Luke wouldn’t dare be so mean to Din, but the hair and the clothing certainly looked like Luke from where he laid on the bed.

“Wrong Skywalker, my man,” the figure answered. “I’m Anakin, Luke’s father.”

The mere mention of the name sent Din’s mind spinning, finally landing on the fact that Anakin had a blue tint to him because he was, in fact, dead. Of all the weird sh*t that happened since he met Luke, Din figured communing with the dead ranked amongst the most tame. He just wished the weird Force shenanigans would wait until after he had a cup of caf in him.

“The dead one,” Din said. “And I have a name, you dick.”

Din didn’t give a sh*t if Anakin wasn’t alive, that didn’t mean he could waltz into Din’s room and talk to him anyway he pleased.

Anakin waved him off. “I prefer ‘formerly of the living’, but sure,” he said, pointedly ignoring Din’s jab.

Din snorted as he put a hand on the bird’s head. “Did I say ‘dead’? No, I meant ‘deadbeat’,” he continued. The memory of Luke looking sick to his stomach as Cobb praised Anakin made Din’s heckles rise even higher. “Some kind of father you are, abandoning your kid and sending him off on insane adventures from the grave.” He paused to sit up on the bed, keeping the bird curled up in his chest. “You have a lot of nerve, coming in my room and — wait, why can I see you?”

Was Din a Jedi, too?

“You’re not Force sensitive,” Anakin replied. “It’s the convor you’re holding — he’s acting as a conduit so you can sit here and tell me exactly what you think of me.”

Din glared at Anakin, keeping him pinned to the chair with his stare as he gently put the convor down on the bed, away from his body. The little thing beeped at him sadly, but Din persevered — he had an experiment to run. Sure enough, Anakin disappeared. When he picked the convor back up and placed it in his lap, Anakin reappeared as though he never left.

“Why did you do that? I told you it was the convor!” Anakin said, hands thrown up in exasperation.

“I have no reason to trust the ghost of a shady asshole that just appeared in my room,” Din shot back.

Anakin paused. “That’s fair.”

“I’m hungover, on a ship hurtling through hyperspace on the way to some farm planet, and now I have to deal with a dead Jedi in my room,” Din rambled. “Couldn’t the freaky dead space wizards have sent anyone more pleasant to deal with than you?”

“Oh, so you would rather have Obi-Wan Kenobi in here, judging you?” Anakin snapped.

“If he didn’t abandon his children, sure,” Din said. “Send his see-through ass this way.”

Anakin groaned. “I guess we’re not getting past that,” he said. “Anything else you feel like getting off your chest?”

“I don’t f*cking like you,” Din replied.

“Good to know,” Anakin replied blithely. “Glad you feel better.”

“What is it you want, Master Dickweed?”

“Can’t Mandalorians think of insults that don’t have to do with assholes or dicks?” asked Anakin.

“Does ‘bitchmade motherf*cker’ work for your refined tastes, or do you want to workshop this some more?” Din said. “Float me in some caf and we can do this all day.”

“…I walked into that one,” Anakin said.

Din, feeling sufficiently smug for putting Luke’s father in his place, straightened up his posture. “Get to talking, or I’m hanging up.”

“You’ll… hang up the bird?”

“I will absolutely hang this bird up and then tell Luke that his dead dad came into my room,” Din said. “Watch me.”

A pained look crossed Anakin’s too-familiar features. “No, don’t do that,” he said, crestfallen. “I don’t want to cause him more problems. He won’t talk to me alone, and I’m trying to respect that.”

“If you want me to pass a message to him, I’m not going to do it,” Din said. “If he doesn’t want to speak to you, there’s a good reason. Also, I don’t like the idea of helping you.”

“Look, just —“ Anakin growled, “just watch after Luke, alright? I need you to look after him for me. You guys are going to face a lot of ordeals together, and I know he seems invincible but he needs someone looking out for him, too.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust your son?” asked Din. “Or is that because you weren’t there to raise him and you don’t know what he’s capable of?”

“Holy sh*t,” Anakin huffed. “You’re relentless — no, you f*cking asshole, it’s not because I don’t trust Luke. He’s the greatest Jedi that’s ever lived! He does things that we can’t explain, things no Jedi could do, even with decades of training. We sent Luke on this quest to find you because no one else could do it.”

“Then what’s got you so worried?” Din pressed.

The ghost of Anakin Skywalker sighed heavily as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the tops of his thighs. Din thought he looked fairly young, but perhaps ghosts just had the benefit of assuming youth whenever they felt like it.

“His heart,” Anakin said. “He’s so lonely — you get it, don’t you? There’s not many Mandalorians left in the galaxy, but you have Boba Fett on this very ship, just a few doors away. You’re going to go find more, and bring them into your cause. Right now, Luke has no one other than you. Not even his sister really understands, not the way that you can.

“We rely on our emotions to control our abilities. The Jedi Order had one another to hold each other through our worst moments, and we’re not there for Luke. Not the way he needs.”

Din scoffed. “You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll take care of him just fine.”

“Why, because you’ll be there for him, and not like me, the asshole father who abandoned him?” asked Anakin.

“Look at you, learning and sh*t,” Din said as he clapped mockingly. “I guess you can teach a dead dog new tricks.”

Anakin looked like he wanted to throw something at Din’s head. “And another thing — you need to get serious about this mission,” he ground out. “You can’t just agree to this and not have the strength of conviction to see this through. Too many lives depend on you to not have your head out of your ass.”

“And just what makes you think I’m not taking this seriously?” asked Din.

Anakin shot a glance over at the Darksaber’s hilt, resting on the bedside table. “You’ve activated that thing maybe a few times since you got a hold of it. You won’t wield it because you can’t. It won’t listen to you because you don’t want it bad enough — figure out why you want this so bad, and act on it already.”

Din’s mouth twitched in anger. “And what if I don’t really want it for any other reason than because your son wanted me to do this?”

“Then you might as well hand that sword over to literally anyone else,” Anakin snapped back. “It’ll be useless in your hands.”

The small bird in Din’s lap cooed at him, somehow sounding concerned. In response, Din ran a soothing thumb over the crest of the bird’s head in small circles. He wasn’t sure how to snap back at Anakin for that one — the bastard had a point. Din would bring the sword with him when they would head out, but never thought about using it. He tried swinging it once or twice, and the damned thing just didn’t behave like any kind of sword Din had ever seen. He didn’t trust himself not to hack off a piece of himself, so it remained sheathed, dangling off his belt. Useless.

“You know as well as I do that if you’re going to defend your throne, you’ll need to do so with that sword,” Anakin continued. “The success of this mission rests on you to decide what you want.”

Din huffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? That not good enough for you yet?”

“What does Luke even see in you?” Anakin mumbled. “We’ll come back to this when you’re acting like less of an insufferable, smug prick.”

“What you see is what you get,” said Din as he ran a soothing hand over the convor’s head.

Anakin stood up from his chair as if to leave, but not before turning back to Din. “For what it’s worth, had I known my children survived, nothing would’ve kept me from them.”

That was a new piece of information. Din turned it over in his mind, considering it from all the angles his aching brain could handle. It didn’t fit in with anything that he currently knew, which bothered him deeply. Anakin lied to him — either outright, or by omission, he wasn’t sure.

“There’s no way that Luke reacted the way he did when he heard your name because you just didn’t know about them,” Din replied at last. “I won’t pry out of respect for Luke, but you’re not being honest.”

Anakin only smiled, but it didn’t reach the corners of his eyes. “Maybe you’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“And maybe you’re a dead old man trying to make his failures my problem,” said Din.

“…Not too far off, I suppose.”

“If that’s all you’ve got for me, I suggest you f*ck off back to the ghostly realm before I sic this bird on you,” Din grumbled as he flopped back onto the bed. “And if you go and bother Luke, I’m figuring out a way to kick your transparent ass.”

The room suddenly fell silent and, save for the bird, Din was alone.

Gently putting the bird back on the bed, Din stood up and groaned as several more joints popped — he wasn’t sure what position he fell asleep in, but he knew it couldn’t be good for his posture. A glass of water and a pair of painkiller tablets sat on the bedside table, waiting for him. He immediately thought about Luke, and all the grief he put Luke through just trying to get his wasted ass in the room. Embarrassment tangling with the slight throb building at his temples urged Din to quickly down the painkillers, the water chasing the pills slowly bringing him back to life.

“What did Luke call you again? ‘Ibis’?” asked Din.

The convor cooed in the affirmative. At least, a tone Din assumed meant ‘yes’.

“That’s a weird name, pal,” he said. “But if that’s what you want, you’ve got it. Let me get my gear on and we’ll go get some breakfast.”

When Din finally made it out to the conference room, Ibis resting cheerfully on his shoulder, he found Cobb pouring Boba a cup of caf before knocking back the rest of the carafe, himself. He wondered if Cobb would go into cardiac arrest after it coursed its way through his system and straight to his heart, but he figured Cobb could handle it. If he could survive multiple krayt dragon attacks, he could survive damn near anything.

“Oh, so glad the king finally joined us,” Boba groused over his cup. “His Royal Majesty finally made time for us in his busy schedule.”

Din opened his mouth to argue, to tell them about his unwanted visitor, but Fennec kindly stepped in. “Ignore him, Djarin — he’s hung over and dehydrated.”

Boba grumbled as he rested his head in the palm of his hand. Cobb, for his part, shot Din a withering look that seemed like a strange mixture of pity and pain. Shoving what remained of the carafe towards Din, Cobb grabbed another cup from the center of the table and slid it in his direction. Gratefully, Din poured himself out a cup and downed half of it in one go. Hardly palatable, the brew as bitter as anything and rapidly cooling, but it felt better than it had a right to. Today would be a good day.

“You know you kissed him last night, right?” Boba said over his cup of caf.

The sound of the ceramic shattering on the steel floor hardly registered in Din’s mind as the blood rushed through his ears, the loss of weight in his hand a complete mystery. The team members around the table winced at the loud crash. His receding headache started creeping back up his neck and clawed at his brain, making his stomach churn. The bird flying off his shoulders and landing on the table only scratched at the edges of his awareness.

So much for having a good day.

“I did what.”

“Alright, I still don’t get it,” Cobb said as he stood up from the table. “You’re saying that Mandalorians kiss with the whole forehead touch thing, but that doesn’t sound right to me. A kiss is a kiss — two people’s lips, touching each other, maybe with a little more, y’know?”

“It counts,” Fennec said. “And that’s why I have 200 credits.”

“Wait, that’s a good point — does Luke know it was a kiss?” asked Boba.

“Wait a minute,” Din huffed. “What in the ten hells are you talking about? Luke helped me back to my room after I got too drunk too fast, then I fell asleep and woke up with the bird in my room. I don’t remember any sort of kiss. Were you following us?”

“Didn’t have to,” Fennec answered. “We snuck over to the security room once we noticed you left.”

“It’s real simple — Luke hauled your ass back to your room, your drunk ass fell on the poor bastard when he tried to open up your door, and then when you two got up, you bonked your head on his head,” Boba recounted. “You just gave Luke Skywalker a Keldabe kiss.”

The memories of resting his helmet onto Luke’s head came flooding back, with a wave of pain following immediately afterwards. Din felt sick to his stomach once again. After he cleaned up the broken mug, he’d have to apologize to Luke profusely for not only inconveniencing him, but for kissing him like. Like a harlot.

He owed him at least two crates of fancy teas. Any kind he liked.

“Oh f*ck,” Din groaned.

“Now you’re just f*cking with the poor man,” Cobb said, throwing his hands up into the air. “He didn’t realize he did it! And I’d bet five credits Skywalker doesn’t know it’s a fancy Mandalorian overture of love or whatever.”

“His Mando’a is better than mine,” Din lamented. “It’s more likely than not he knows basic Mandalorian customs. Besides, even if that knowledge somehow eluded him, it’s a very intimate gesture. I think he’d get it.”

“Oh,” said Cobb. “You may rightly be f*cked, my man.”

Din just stared at the broken mug, suddenly adrift in a wave of a thousand emotions. Why did he let himself get into this situation? Would Luke hate him? Was this something they would just have to forget and never, ever speak about ever again?

Did Luke regret the kiss? Did Din?

“If it’s any consolation, Skywalker didn’t seem upset,” Fennec added. “Either he doesn’t know or doesn’t care, brushed it off as a drunken attempt to stay upright. You should talk about it, though.”

“Does that change your mind about the bet, devil woman?” asked Boba. “You ready to give me back my money?”

“You should’ve been more specific,” Fennec replied. “You never said, ‘they both had to kiss, and it was a fairytale kiss where they both lived happily ever after’. That’s entirely on you.”

Boba groaned, holding his head. “You’re awful, you know.”

“Who’s being awful so early in the morning?”

The sound of Luke’s voice behind him made Din nearly jump right out of his skin. When Luke approached Boba, smile as sunny and pleasant as ever, Din’s stomach lurched and he wanted to cry as last night’s events replayed in his mind yet again, the memory becoming more vivid every time. There would be no way to avoid the subject, no way to face Luke without wanting to die of pure embarrassment.

Despite knowing it didn’t make sense, Din couldn’t help but feel like the entire Skywalker family had it out for him.

“My f*cking head,” groaned Boba as he peeked his eyes over his hands. “And you, for being so goddamn happy right now.”

Luke only smiled wider. “That’s not very polite of me. I can make it up to you, if you like.”

“Does it involve you f*cking off so I can go back to bed?” Boba snapped.

“Why don’t you stand up for me, Boba?” asked Luke as he held out his hands for Boba to take. “I can make you feel a little better.”

“Putting a bullet in my head would do the same thing,” Boba grumbled as he stood up on wobbly feet.

“Alright, this is gonna suck, but bear with me,” said Luke as he reached a hand underneath Boba’s flak vest and pressed his palm flat against his abdomen.

Boba sputtered, panic spreading across his face. “What the f*ck are you doing?”

“I’m going to put some pressure on your liver. You’re going to hurt, but maybe we can get some of those toxins moving,” Luke said as he closed his eyes and breathed out. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

A sharp, guttural scream soon followed as Boba sank out of Luke’s grasp and down onto his knees. He flopped onto the ship’s floor, cursing Luke and everyone in the vicinity as he rolled onto his back. The rest of the crew only stood and watched as relief soon dawned across Boba’s face.

“I don’t feel like sh*t anymore,” Boba huffed, not moving from the floor. “That f*cking hurt, though. I don’t think I want to do that again.”

“Fair,” said Luke as he stood over Boba’s prostrate body. “Anyone else want to try?”

Din’s head already had a humming thread of pain wrapped around the base of his neck, so he politely declined as he made his way to the nearest broom closet. Cobb and Fennec averted their eyes, almost as though making eye contact would be tantamount to agreement.

“Well, the offer’s on the table,” Luke said, smiling from ear to ear. “I’m going to go check on Miss Motto; I think she’s still manning the helm. I also have more caf brewing in the galley, so feel free to help yourselves!” Before taking off down the hall, Luke held out his hands for the bird, gesturing for Ibis to fly to his arms. “We should leave these people be, then. Wouldn’t want you to get all scuffed up on this broken mug, huh?”

As Luke took off down the hall towards the helm, Din turned back and watched him leave — so badly did he want to stop him, talk to him, beg for his forgiveness, ask him what kind of fancy teas he would like, but the words dried up in his mouth as Luke turned a corner and disappeared. Feeling lost, adrift, and largely clueless wasn’t new to Din. It just never made him feel quite so bad before.

Two little mouse droids interrupted his thoughts, one cleaning up what remained of the caf and the other sweeping away the broken pieces of the mug into a hole in the wall of the room; they both quickly disappeared into the same hole. Resentment screwed Din’s face up into a sour pout — droids cleaning up after his messes couldn’t be insulting enough, but did they have to take his opportunity to think while doing something mindless, as well?

“Please talk to him, Djarin,” Boba groaned, still on the floor. “If I have to endure you two dancing around each other like nervous nexu, I’m jettisoning myself out of the nearest airlock. Get your sh*t together.”

Cobb laughed. “You kiddin’ me? I wouldn’t trade this for nothin’,” he said as he stood up. He bent over and held his hands out for Boba to take. “You think if I wrote up a screen treatment for this, I could sell it to someone on Coruscant? Make a whole daytime holodrama out of a Jedi and a Mandalorian’s secret love affair?”

Din chose to not hear the rest of the conversation, figuring he’d be better off as the subject rather than a participant.

Din wasn’t going to think about it anymore. He wasn’t.

Luke, for his part, remained cordial and polite — and yet, the distance felt so real that Din couldn’t help but feel the shape of it whenever he moved about the ship. Whether he laid on his bed in the diplomat quarters, or sat around the table in the conference room, or even visited the bridge to see Luke hard at work, things just didn’t seem to be the same. He couldn’t gauge if Luke didn’t want to be bothered, or if he simply just occupied his time in another dimension.

Even during Luke’s quick briefing at the conference room table, Din could hardly get Luke’s attention for more than what Luke deemed necessary. After a while, Din simply gave up — he could hardly remember a single word Luke said, but Din remembered the way Luke chewed on his lower lip when he thought no one noticed and the way he shifted his weight between his feet when he stood in one place for far too long. If Din felt unsettled and restless, Luke looked like he would sprint out of the room if given half the chance.

It seemed no amount of tea could fix this mess. So much for not thinking about it anymore.

The rest of the crew, to their credit, didn’t press the issue further. Din wasn’t sure if they didn’t find the situation entertaining anymore or if they simply pitied him, but he felt grateful for the break, anyway. He also wasn’t sure what he would do if he heard another crack about how he practically threw himself at Luke again. If this was how Luke felt when he woke up underneath Din’s arm in Boba’s palace, he fully understood why Luke ran out of the room.

Din wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about the whole affair, outside of his extreme embarrassment for putting Luke in such an untenable position. Luke was an ally — a friend — and touching him without his permission felt more wrong than anything. He wasn’t sure what the tea situation looked like on Felucia, but he resolved to make it up to him later; right now, he needed to apologize.

Willing himself to get up off his bed, Din made his way straight to the bridge of the ship hoping for the chance to catch Luke by himself. When he found Luke alone at the helmsman’s station, the lights of the stars streaking past them through hyperspace making his hair glow silver much like it did under the lights of the Tatooinian moons, Din relaxed. The sound of the door sliding open caught Luke’s attention as Din walked onto the bridge.

“Permission to come on the bridge, sir?” Din asked. Luke cracked a soft smile, which made Din’s shoulders relax.

“Granted,” Luke replied. “Although it’s weird to have the king of a planet call me ‘sir’.”

“Noted.” Din walked over and took the navigator’s seat, directly next to Luke’s. “How are you doing? It’s been a while since we spoke, just the two of us.”

There’s a reason for that, idiot, Din thought.

“I’m doing just fine — but I suspect that’s not what you really want to talk about,” Luke said. “You want to talk about the other night.”

“Perceptive, as usual,” said Din. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened — not being able to handle myself and making an absolute fool of myself. Not only will I never do that again, I’ll make it up to you however you see fit.”

“I’m fine, Din — really,” Luke said, placing his hand on Din’s shoulder. “It’s not a grievous sin to get drunk, and accidents happen. No one got hurt. Aside from your head, I guess.”

Din’s brows furrowed as he met Luke’s eyes, looking back at Din with no shortage of amusem*nt.

“But I touched you, fell all over you.” I kissed you. “I don’t understand. You have every right to feel offended.”

Luke pulled his hand back. “I won’t pretend to understand Mandalorian culture, but it’s not that big a deal to me — didn’t you explain to me a while back that Mandalorians often slept cuddled up to one another when they were cold? Think of it like that. It’s just something that happens.” Luke leaned back into his chair, the support creaking with the movement. “I once had to haul my friend Lando on my back after a particularly hard night at a club in Bespin. Having you around my shoulders was nothing.”

Din almost wanted to feel offended at the idea that kissing someone else didn’t warrant a bigger reaction than that, but he held his tongue. Perhaps Luke truly didn’t understand. “And I didn’t… hurt your head when I leaned my head against yours?”

“No,” Luke answered. “It’s not like you reared back and whanged me or anything. Like I said, no harm done!”

Din almost wanted to cackle — from either his own stupidity or from pure relief, he wasn’t sure. “So, why would you leave the room anytime I came in?”

“I figured you just wanted your own space, that’s all,” Luke shrugged. “Fennec said you still weren’t feeling well, so I left you alone. I didn’t know you felt bad about what happened the other night; if I had, I would’ve said something earlier. I’m sorry for making you feel worse.”

Din shook his head. “You did nothing wrong.” I’m still the one that kissed you. “I feel like I owe you some fancy teas.”

“Well, I can’t say no to the promise of fancy teas,” Luke said, smiling wide. “Would you like some more of that Stewjoni tea? I still have plenty left for a couple pots. We’ve got just a couple of hours before we reach Felucia, so might as well take the time.”

When the Tantive IV finally arrived to Felucia, Din’s mind raced as he continued to run through all the pieces of his life. So far, the crew members they found all had something to do with Din’s past, but in his travels, he never once even looked at Felucia on a map. No one had any quarrel with a bunch of farmers and small-time merchants, and bounties avoided wide-open, rural spaces. He couldn’t think of anyone in his acquaintance that would come this way, either.

He didn’t even know what a Felucian looked like, for that matter.

“Do you have any idea who this could be?” asked Din as Luke ran through the landing procedures, the drop through the atmosphere as gentle as ever.

Luke manned the helm on his own once again as Peli remained in her quarters, loading up the last of her things. She insisted on getting off at the next stop and finding a Star Line Cruiser to take her back to Tatooine, proclaiming loudly that she wanted nothing to do with any further Imp business and that her regulars missed her. Din figured she wasn’t quite used to interstellar travel, and he couldn’t blame her — this sort of life wasn’t for everyone.

Luke shook his head. “I’m in the dark, same as you,” he answered. “Like I said, I never know who we’re going to find on this expedition.”

“These people all seem to know me,” Din said. “Is that significant?”

“Maybe,” said Luke. “Then again, I found you, and we didn’t really know each other. Not in the most traditional sense of the word, anyway.”

Din hummed. “Let’s just hope this remains as friendly has the last few meetings.”

“You think you might find an enemy here?” asked Luke, an eyebrow raised. “Do you often find yourself in the business of pissing off farmers?”

“I never mean to piss off anyone,” Din shot back. “Occupational hazard.”

Luke huffed out a short laugh. “Well, if we find ourselves on the wrong end of a pitchfork, I suppose I’ll know who to blame.”

The outskirts of Kway Teow, Felucia’s capital city, looked about the same as any other slum Din encountered in his life, the roofs of the huts all clattered together in different colors and materials and roughshod electrical work hanging over the street like old cobwebs laden with dust. The local people, short in stature and somewhat reptilian in appearance, seemed happy enough — many of whom gave their crew a polite wave or a kind word as they walked through the streets and into the main market area. No one seemed to look at either Din or Boba askance, which led Din to believe they didn’t find Mandalorian armor too out of place here.

A clue, at last.

Luke, meeting Din’s eyes through his visor, seemed to understand what Din thought.

“I think we’re looking for another Mandalorian,” Luke said through the commlink, voice ringing soft through the audio in Din’s helmet. “Should we split up and start asking the locals?”

“Sounds fine to me — ‘sides, I got my eye on some meilooruns at one of the stands,” Cobb replied over the secure channel.

“You wanna rendezvous back at the noodle shop at the edge of the market?” asked Fennec.

“As good a place as any,” Din said. “Call it up if you find anything.”

It wouldn’t be long before Fennec reported in with news from a ceramics shop owner claiming he saw an armored man a number of months ago in the Bakers’ District. No one seemed to see this armored man leave, but a new assistant cook showed up at a nearby dumpling restaurant that no one else in town knew. For the life of him, Din couldn’t remember a single Mandalorian in his covert that had any real cooking skills — he figured this Mandalorian must be from another covert, maybe someone Bo-Katan Kryze knew.

After meeting back up in front of the noodle shop, the crew made straight for the dumpling restaurant on the other side of the slums, following the meandering directions Fennec managed to get from another shop owner. Their target had the day off, but a helpful cook gave them directions on where to find their mysterious knight that called himself “Al”. Whoever the hell that could be.

Din wondered what kind of sight they made — two Mandalorians, a Jedi, a master assassin, and a back-country marshal slinking through the back alleys of one of the rougher parts of town — and felt his stomach sink. Bad news spreads fast in a small town, and their target likely knew company would be on his doorstep before they even caught sight of his place. As they approached the last alley, Din stopped the group.

“When we get there, let me knock on the door first,” Din said, keeping his voice low. “I don’t know who this is, but something doesn’t feel right. If anyone’s going to get shot in the face, let it be me.”

Cobb held up a hand. “Well, I get you’ve got your whole armor thing going, but wouldn’t it be better if someone adept at talking to folks goes in? Seeing as how you’re afraid the very sight of you is an incitement to a fight and all.”

“Are you volunteering?” asked Fennec.

“Sounds like he’s volunteering to me,” said Boba.

“You don’t even have to twist my arm about it — services are free of charge,” Cobb said. “I’ll get him to come out and talk to us.”

Din shook his head. “I appreciate it, but if this is a Mandalorian, I don’t know how he’s going to react to a non-Mandalorian clocking his identity and showing up on his turf. It could get ugly.”

Cobb raised up his hands in defeat. “No skin off my nose, boss man! Just thought I’d offer,” he said. “I won’t begrudge you some extra carbon scoring on that armor of yours. Besides, if your gut’s telling you things might get dicey, I’d trust it.”

“We’ll be right behind Din, anyway,” Luke said. “Worst case scenario, we’ve got him surrounded. If he does anything stupid, he’ll regret it.”

“…Damn, Skywalker. Take it down a notch or two.”

“Sorry.”

A blaster aimed straight at his face greeted Din before he could even place a knuckle to the wood of the door.

“Get the f*ck off my doorstep,” the voice behind the blaster boomed. Around the blaster, Din took note of his captor’s dark complexion and looming stature, failing to place those features against anyone he knew. “You’ve got until the count of three.”

“Hold on,” Din said, hands raised. “We’re here as friends. Please put the blaster down.”

“Friends don’t show up with a crew armed to the teeth,” the man-presumably-named-Al said.

A flicker of recognition sparked through Din’s mind at the sound of the man’s voice, but he couldn’t be sure — he’d never seen the man’s bare skin once in his life. Din thought he could hear the sound of plasma igniting behind him, but that didn’t seem to matter as something he remembered clicked into place.

“No, it couldn’t be,” the large man said in a hushed, awed tone. “We thought you died.”

Al. Short for “Alsziv”. He felt so stupid for not realizing it sooner.

“…Paz Vizsla?”

The sound of the blaster powering down made Din audibly sigh in relief. “How did you find me?” Paz asked as he slowly lowered the weapon out of Din’s face.

Din took in Paz’s appearance for the very first time — he remembered Paz always being a mountain of a man, but here he looked like a man that had one too many rounds with life and life ended up winning. With deep bags that ran under his eyes and a mouth pushed into a permanent frown from his sunken-in cheeks, Din wondered if Paz didn’t get much nutrition from this new lifestyle. Much like Din, he kept a beard and mustache neatly trimmed up — he wondered if Paz simply liked having facial hair, or if he enjoyed it simply because he wasn’t wearing his helmet. Despite never seeing his covert mate’s face before, Din felt like he could’ve never recognized the man standing before him as the guardian of the Tribe.

The guilt that stabbed at him from underneath his ribs made Din nearly clutch at his chest from the pain.

“It’s a long story,” Din said at last. He heard Luke’s sword extinguishing somewhere behind him. “We need to talk.”

“Agreed,” said Paz.

They quickly ushered Paz onto the Tantive IV and sat him down at the conference room table, with Cobb practically shoving a bowl of leftover stew into his hands. Luke, meanwhile, welcomed him with his usual opening spiel about their ongoing mission and Paz’s expected role to play in it. Din wondered, and not for the first time, if Luke ever got tired of it. The rest of the crew didn’t seem all that interested in the speech anymore, either.

“So, you’re going on a fool’s errand to reclaim a cursed planet,” Paz said around bites of his stew. “Djarin, you and I have disagreed before, but this is something else entirely.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” muttered Boba.

“Besides, even if Mandalore weren’t cursed, I wouldn’t be able to join you,” Paz continued. “I’m no longer Mandalorian. I lost my right to my armor. I work at a dumpling shop now.”

The room fell silent as Paz pushed his bowl away, completely clean.

“What do you mean? You’re a descendant of Clan Vizsla,” Din said at last. “If anyone in this room has a claim to being Mandalorian, it’s you.”

Paz gave him a glare that Din recognized all too well: the mark of a man not used to concealing his emotions. “As you can plainly see, Djarin, I broke the Creed. You know as well as I do that once you take it off, you do not put it back on. This is the Way.”

“But why? What happened?” Din asked, his tone far more plaintive than he thought possible.

“The day the Imps came looking for you, the Armorer decided we needed to evacuate the foundlings while she stayed behind with the forge. She tasked me with taking them off planet and hiding until she contacted us. It’s been a number of standard months without contact, and I could not care for the foundlings and wear the armor at the same time,” Paz explained. “I chose dishonor in order to save their lives, including your own, and now I must live with the consequences of that decision.”

Din inhaled sharply at the news. It seemed impossible to him that the Armorer might be out there alone, or even dead, but he shook his head. Now wasn’t the time.

“Where are the foundlings?” Din asked. “Your armor?”

“They’re safe, holed up with another small covert a couple planets away,” Paz answered easily. “I thought it safer to remain here in case anyone tracked us down after they saw me — I can stay here and hold off anyone that tries to come looking for them later,” Paz answered. “Whatever I earn at the restaurant, some stays here but most goes to the covert’s coffers to provide for the foundlings. As for the armor, it’s locked away. I can use it to sponsor a foundling when the time is right.”

“Why not use it for yourself, make a living?” Din said.

“I swore the Creed to never let another living soul see my face, and I broke it. I failed.” Paz paused to inhale deeply, his nostrils flaring with the effort. “That’s something you can’t understand. You honored the Way.”

Din inhaled shakily. He never wanted to have this conversation, never wanted to even consider this as an option, but he knew there would be no better time than now. He knew, the moment he took his helmet off in front of his son, he risked his very soul for what felt right at the time. Now, it would be time to face the consequences of his actions.

He hoped this whole mess would be worth it.

“That’s not true,” Din said. “I understand you perfectly.”

Reaching up to the bottom of his helmet with unsure fingers, Din found the seal of his helmet and disengaged it. He lifted it up and over his head in a smooth, practiced motion before he could lose the nerve. Finding a spot on the table in front of him to stare at, Din didn’t dare meet Paz’s gaze as he set his helmet down. He wasn’t sure what he would find in those eyes.

“When?”

“When I gave my son to a Jedi and completed my quest,” Din answered quickly. “I didn’t think it right to let him go without seeing his father’s face.”

Paz took another big exhale. Din could hear the anger bubbling up in Paz’s chest. “And yet, you still wear that armor. You carry that sword like it absolves you of your sin.”

“It absolves me of nothing,” Din retorted, finally looking up and seeing the rage in Paz’s face. “But I can’t give up my armor. Not when there are bigger things at stake here.”

Another hiss to the left of Din draws his attention away from Paz. “Look, I don’t know what your specific Creed entails,” Boba interrupted as he settled his own helmet on the table. “But there’s more than one way to be Mandalorian. You don’t have to castigate yourself for doing what it took to save your people, no more than Djarin has to. You can choose to forge your own path.”

“And what do you know of honor, Fett?” asked Paz. “What does that armor mean to you? Aside from a way to make a quick dollar.”

Boba’s own eyes widened at the slight. “This armor belonged to my grandfather, Jaster Mereel. His son, Jango Fett, wore this armor after him.” He stood up from his seat and quickly drew the knives Luke presented to him out of their new sheaths. “These also belonged to him. Friend, I have as much connection to my family as you do yours — you’ll do well to remember it.”

The rest of the crew remained silent as both Paz and Boba stared each other down, neither man moving. “So be it,” Paz said at last. “Do whatever you like. Clearly if your king doesn’t have a problem with it, neither should I.”

“So, what do you want to do now, Paz?” Din asked. “Do you want to come with us on this journey, or do you want to stay behind here? If caring for the foundlings is a concern, funds are no longer an issue. I just need your help.”

Paz sat there for a while, regarding Din with a glare that made him intensely uncomfortable. “I’ll tell you what — I could be convinced to join this stupid mission, provided you fight me for it. And that sword.”

“What?!” Luke shouted as he stood up, himself. “You have no right!”

“It is right, Jedi!” Paz barked back. “Tarre Vizsla, my ancestor, forged that sword. My lineage is one of kings and conquerors, and we will be the ones to restore us to glory. If whatever your stupid prophecy says is true, then he should have no problems beating me.”

“Doesn’t the Resol’nare state that when the Mand’alor calls, you answer?” Boba asked, unamused.

That term didn’t sound familiar to Din at all — maybe that’s what less-orthodox Mandalorians called their version of the Creed. He would need to ask Boba about it later.

Paz huffed out a short, startled laugh. “I don’t recognize a heretic as the true Mand’alor,” he laughed. “If he wants to be my king, he’ll earn it with blood.”

Din shook his head. “Paz, you’re half-starved and tired. I won’t fight you like this. We can do this some other time — can we at least wait until you’re feeling better?”

Had there not been a good bit of distance between them, Din knew Paz would have lunged straight for his throat.

“Paz, I’m sorry, I —“

“You’ll pay for your insult, brother mine,” Paz growled as he stood up. “I’ll be back here in an hour — be ready.”

The distinctive sounds of a jetpack roaring through the early evening air alerted the crew of the Tantive IV to Paz Vizsla’s return. The rest of the crew immediately left to greet Paz and clear the dueling grounds while Luke remained behind to help Din prepare. Growing up in the Fighting Corps, the other soldiers treated duels as festive events — replete with booze and endless war songs lasting longer than the fight itself — but this fight felt different. Wrong, somehow.

Checking his gauntlets and the seals on his armor, Din came to accept his circ*mstances. He hated the very idea of this duel, but he had no choice — Din already insulted Paz the first time, he wouldn’t impugn his honor yet again.

“Din, are you sure about this?” Luke whispered as he helped Din remove his jetpack off his back. “Like I said before, I won’t pretend to understand your culture but surely we can solve this another way.”

“There’s nothing to be done about it, Luke,” Din replied as he snapped off his kama. “The Mand’alor must win the Darksaber in honorable combat, and that’s the way they keep it. I also deserve to answer for what I said.”

“But you were right to be concerned for him,” said Luke.

“To question a warrior’s ability to fight is a low blow,” Din said. “Especially someone like Paz Vizsla. I hunted for the Tribe, but Paz protected it. Beroya, cabur. Two halves of the same role, and a title that deserves respect. Even if he lost both arms, it wouldn’t give me the right to question him.”

Luke looked like he wanted to argue, but it looked like he swallowed whatever he wanted to say. “Just please, be careful. I don’t want anyone losing limbs.”

Din, reaching for the Darksaber’s hilt that hung from his waist, chuckled. “We’ll see about that — I’ve never really used this thing. Might end up a one-armed king. That’d be something.”

“…We’ll talk once this is over,” said Luke.

“I sure hope so — would be kinda awkward living on the same ship, not talking,” Din said.

A sharp shove to the shoulder gave Din Luke’s final answer.

Once they both stepped out into the evening air, humid and thick with nysillin pollen, Din came face-to-face with the Paz Vizsla he knew, the armor valiantly filling out the gaps that malnutrition left behind.

He briefly wondered if that’s how Paz always looked, and the armor simply helped.

Cobb stood between them on the pitch, motioning both Din and Paz to meet him in the middle. “Alright, you two. This isn’t my first time doing this sort of thing, so I’ll be your referee tonight. We’re going to do this all gentleman-like, yeah? Firstly, do you have your seconds?”

“I will be Din Djarin’s second,” Luke announced as he raised his hand.

“Paz Vizsla, where’s your second?” asked Cobb.

“What the f*ck is that?” asked Paz. Begrudgingly, Din wanted to thank Paz for asking — he didn’t know what that meant, either.

Must be some Core World pageantry, Din figured.

“He’s the guy that tries to negotiate for you before the fight, steps in if you can’t handle the fight, and so on,” Cobb answers.

Boba groaned loudly. “f*ck, I’ll be his second. Let’s get this sh*t over with; it’s f*cking hot out here still.”

“Alright, I’ll meet with the seconds,” Cobb said, “so the combatants need to go to their sides and wait.”

As he turned heel to walk back to his end, Din strained to hear the conversation, but couldn’t hear but a few scant words.

“The seconds could not reach an accord!” Cobb announced loudly. “That means we’re down to a duel. This fight will be to incapacitation, not death. Neither party will use any jetpacks or other means of propulsion. You may choose any weapon in your arsenal, but the Mand’alor must use the Darksaber as his primary weapon. Do we agree?”

The seconds nodded, as did Paz and Din both.

Cobb loosened the handkerchief he kept around his neck and held it up into the air. “Ready?”

Din ignited the Darksaber, already entranced with the strange crackling, singing sound that rang through the vale.

“FIGHT!”

Din hardly had any time to hold up his sword before Paz came charging at him from across the field of honor, the vibroblade’s scream higher pitched than the song of his own saber. When the blade made contact with the Darksaber’s plasma, little sparks flew around them as Din met each of Paz’s wild swings with a well-timed parry. Din cursed himself — he hated that an opponent put him on the back foot so quickly, so effortlessly. Despite knowing Paz was but a man, the single-minded furor and crushing strength gave Din an uncomfortable reminder of the Darktroopers that nearly bashed his head in.

Paz wore his helmet, but knowing Paz’s face now made Din imagine it distorted and marred with pure rage.

“Come on then, Din Djarin!” shouted Paz as he swung his knife straight at Din’s ribs. “Show me the mettle of your strength!”

The weight of the Darksaber strained hard against Din’s arms. He felt it deep in his wrists, the pressure making something groan deep in his bones. He had to pull back or else something would snap.

“This weapon wasn’t made for weak-willed, gutless wonders,” Paz sneered. He reared up to make another slash towards Din’s arm. “I don’t recognize the authority of any king that can’t decide what he wants to be!”

“What in the f*ck are you talking about,” Din wheezed as he lifted the sword up into a highpoint guard. “I know who I am.”

Paz lunged at him, only for Din to barely hit Paz’s blow off to the side. He wasn’t sure how many more devastating hits his body could take. Din wasn’t sure how many more of those hits Paz could deliver in his state, but it might just be enough to win the day.

“Do you now?” Paz asked. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re a small man letting a weapon control you. Pathetic!”

Paz shot forward, his movements impossibly fast for someone his size. He swung the knife in wide, powerful arcs but Din could still bat them away with a rhythm that allowed him to compensate for the Darksaber’s weight. A surge of anger and spite pulsed through Din at the very notion that Paz may be toying with him. Sickly, venomous panic chased it — he might actually lose and he didn’t know how to handle that idea.

“What’s the matter, beroya?” Paz bellowed, his strikes growing increasingly frantic. “Are you a hunter of men? Or are you just a coward?” His shouts grew louder and angrier as the power of Paz’s strikes became harder and heavier. It was all Din could do to keep the Darksaber up in order to mount any sort of defense. “A King of Mandalore, or a king of nothing?!”

The strange, sparkling hum of the Darksaber buzzed louder and louder as Paz’s voice drifted somewhere else, far outside of Din’s perception. He could feel Paz’s blows, but it simply didn’t seem to matter. His stance didn’t budge, neither did his guard. A sudden wave of calm trickled its way down his body, starting from his aching shoulders and all the way down to his straining legs — like sinking into a nice, hot bath. Nothing else existed outside of that very moment, the rest of the world dissipating into light, sparkling champagne bubbles.

Are you the King of Mandalore, the ruler of the Mandalorian people? The question seemed to come from a multitude of voices speaking in unison.

I suppose I am, Din thought.

Do you want to be Mand’alor, or do you want to return to your old life? The chorus asked.

That idea gave Din pause. Before he met the kid, before he met Luke, Din knew nothing outside of constant work. He didn’t even know if he particularly liked bounty hunting anymore, and truth be told, he didn’t miss multiple day missions hunting targets that only purchased him a couple days’ food and a fuel rod or two. Without his covert — the last member of his Tribe currently trying his damndest to make sure he remained the last member alive — Din had no one to provide for. Dealing with the worst scum the galaxy had to offer constantly wore on his soul, and outside of the time he spent with his child, none of it felt worth it.

I have nothing left of my old life, Din responded at last. I can only move forward.

Paz still continued to batter at his guard, but that didn’t seem to matter. Din would survive.

Why should you be the Mand’alor, and not Paz, of the mighty House Vizsla?

Because he wants it, Din thought. Men who seek power shouldn’t have it.

But why you?

Luke’s voice rang out in his mind yet again, in tune with the Darksaber’s hum: you are whatever a king has always meant, and whatever a king may be will always be you.

Because he believes in me, Din thought. I want him to be proud of me. I want my son to be proud of me. I want to have a home. I want Paz Vizsla to have a home. I want to make things better. I want to try.

You want to be a warlord, ruler over all you see? Change the galaxy as you see fit? Crush your enemies under the heel of your boot?

I just want to be what he thinks I can be, Din thought. The truth of the matter settled in his chest, resolute and beautiful. Even if I hate it, even if I don’t deserve it, it’s the only thing I want.

Raise your head, Din Djarin. Take what is yours. Be at peace.

Din blinked, and the world fell back into place. His limbs felt lighter, his soul felt lighter as he shoved his weight back up against Paz’s blade and pushed Paz back. He watched his covert brother stumble and pressed the advantage, swinging his sword in a wide arc around him, as if to say there, but no further. The sword itself no longer felt heavy or oppressive; it felt as natural as anything, an extension of his arm and armor. That same, strange joy he found in battle coursed its way through his veins as he stepped forward and back into himself again.

“Decided to show up, brother?!” Paz shouted as he activated the plasma buckler shield emitter from his gauntlet. “Are you ready to lose that sword?”

“Only if you’re ready to die for it,” Din answered.

Paz sped towards him once more, immediately aiming his blade for Din’s neck — a predictable move. Almost as though he experienced this very battle a thousand times before, Din shifted into a low fool’s guard, luring his opponent closer. Within moments, Din broke through Paz’s onslaught and pushed the blade of the Darksaber along the edge of Paz’s vibroblade, the screech of the impact singing around them both. Nothing could stop Din from putting the Darksaber right near Paz’s throat, except for Din himself.

“Do you yield?” asked Din, his hands steady and his mind clear. He could smell the fabric of Paz’s flightsuit singing under the heat of the Darksaber’s blade.

“I yield,” Paz answered as he dropped his vibroblade. His voice sounded weak and tired. “Ni ceta, ner Mand’alor.”

Din quickly extinguished the blaze of his sword and hooked it back onto his belt. He moved to check on Paz, but before he could take a step forward, Luke rushed out from the sidelines and ducked under Paz’s arm to support his weight. Boba quickly stepped in and took Paz’s other side and, with a nod to Luke, began marching Paz back to the ship’s hold. Din wanted so badly to follow after them, but he knew he would just be in the way.

“Well, I guess you won, Din,” Cobb said with his hand outstretched in congratulations. “I gotta admit, I thought he had you on the ropes — but I guess you’re still figuring out your light stick there.”

Din gave him a mirthless scoff as he took Cobb’s hand. It didn’t feel right, beating Paz that way, but he did what he had to do.

He just hoped that Paz saw it the same way, once he recovered.

Chapter 6: Morgause

Chapter Text

Din stood vigil alone outside of the ship’s medbay, patiently waiting for either Luke or Boba to come out and deliver some sort of news — he wouldn’t rest until he heard if Paz would at least make it through the night. Cobb left nearly an hour ago to find Fennec and gather some food from the local market, saying something about how everyone deserved takeout tonight; the specifics eluded him as his entire world focused on the other side of the medbay’s doors.

Guilt gnawed at his mind, cursing the moment he agreed to this stupid duel and wishing he could’ve thought of anything better to do, instead. How many scrapes had he managed to talk himself out of, how many times could he negotiate his way out of trouble? He should be better than that, he could do better than that.

Alone, his thoughts continued to spiral out into despair. Why didn’t Din try to reach out to the Armorer sooner? Help whatever remained of the covert find somewhere safe once the heat died down? It was his job to provide for the covert, and here he was, failing once again. If Paz died due to his neglect, Din could never forgive himself.

He wouldn’t want to forgive himself.

The sound of the door finally opening drew Din’s attention away from the depths of his self-pity. Luke and Boba both walked out, but Din could read nothing from their faces.

“How is he?” asked Din, impatience simmering under his skin.

“He’s fine, Djarin,” Boba answered. “He’s tired. Malnourished as hell and twice as dehydrated, but he’ll live. From the looks of things, your friend in there used up every last bit of energy for your match, past the point of muscle failure. We’re also treating him for some sort of latent upper respiratory infection. Surprised he managed to stand up for as long as he did.”

“We have him on an IV drip to get some fluids and nutrients back in him, along with a course of antibiotics,” Luke added. “The medical droid has him under strict supervision, so he’ll be well taken care of. He’s going to be fine, Din.”

Din sighed deeply. He wanted to feel relief, but his poor heart wouldn’t let him. “Can I see him?”

“Shouldn’t you be resting right now?” asked Boba, his brow quirked up as though Din’s anxiety amused him.

Luke placed a hand on Boba’s shoulder. “You can go see him — I can’t guarantee he’s not already asleep, but you can go see him.”

Din muttered out a quick thank you before hurrying past both Luke and Boba to enter the medbay. As soon as the doors slid open, Din strode past the other beds and exam rooms to find Paz at the very end of the bay, nearest the med droid station.

Once he reached the foot of Paz’s bed, Din took in the sight of his brother unconscious and felt his own stomach flip in worry. All manner of tubes and wires hung off and around and on top of Paz, looking more machine than man — even without his armor. It hurt him to see someone like Paz Vizsla waylaid like this, so vulnerable and cold and small.

As he approached, Din noticed Paz’s armor laid out on the empty bed next to his — the armor wiped down and placed reverently as if the armor simply missed its warrior. The gesture touched Din as he ran his fingers over the various scratches and gouges in the dusty blue paint, the color matching that of all the foundlings Clan Vizsla adopted. He wondered idly if Paz ever thought to paint it again, or if it ever even crossed his mind.

“Mand’alor.”

The sudden sound startled Din, making him flinch and reach for the blaster at his side. Paz’s short, heavy, wheezing laughter came out all in one burst.

“For such a tough man, you sure are quick to scare,” Paz chuckled, the labor making the tubes supplying oxygen to his nostrils sway. “Guess that comes with the territory.”

“I suppose it does,” Din said as he pulled a short stool over and sat down next to Paz’s. “How are you faring?”

“Feel better than you look,” Paz shot back. “Never told me you were ugly as hell under the helmet. The Creed was the best thing that ever happened to you, brother.”

Had Paz not cackled so hard he nearly coughed up a lung, Din might’ve felt offended.

“I should call the med droid back over, make sure you didn’t lose your vision after I beat your ass,” Din said as he popped the seal on his helmet. Pulling it off and setting it on the bed with Paz’s armor, he ran a hand through his dense curls. “You sure no one checked you for a traumatic brain injury?”

“Your face is giving me a traumatic brain injury,” Paz whined as he shielded his eyes with a dramatic forearm slung over his face. “You can’t rule Mandalore with a mug like that. You’ll make the younglings cry.”

Din stood up from his seat. “Well, if you’re feeling up to making jokes, you should be working on getting better. I’ll come back later.”

As he stood up, Din realized that he gave what he just received tenfold to Anakin Skywalker. He didn’t feel like apologizing for it, but maybe the next time Anakin decided to haunt him, he’d back off on the insults.

Maybe by about ten percent or so.

“You’re such a child,” Paz scoffed. “Sit back down, your royal worship. We should talk.”

A sigh threatened to escape his chest, but Din willed it down. “What about?” he asked as he slowly sat back down. His knees protested the effort.

“We’ve known each other for most of our lives now,” Paz began, his breathing just a little heavier. “I presented you with your first shot of tihaar at your coming of age ceremony. We fought each other for our roles in the tribe. Hell, I think we’ve fought more times than we’ve ever shared a drink.”

“Is there a point here, Paz?”

Paz laughed again, a harsh sound fighting against his aching chest. “f*ck you, my liege,” he wheezed. “I’m getting there.”

“Hope you find it before you croak. Would hate to explain to the rest of the crew that we have to hold an impromptu funeral onboard,” said Din. “Say, do Mandalorian funeral rites allow for burial via ejection port?”

Paz leveled a tired glare straight at him. “It’ll be a cold day in Hell before you get to bury me. I’m living to 150.”

“Not with the way you’re going,” Din said. “Paz, why weren’t you eating? Why didn’t you go see a medic for the sh*t sitting in your lungs?”

The smirk on Paz’s face fell quickly. “Didn’t have a beroya to provide for us anymore, brother,” he said, voice soft, morose. “No Tribe, no connections — I got by with scraps from the dumpling house, but when most of the paycheck goes to everyone still in hiding, it’s worth it. You know that better than any of us.”

Din couldn’t find a single thing to say to that. During the leaner times, he remembered parceling out his MREs — meals meant to last half a day at the most — over three days just to make a credit stretch farther. A missed meal meant a meal or medicine for the covert, even if it also meant waking up in the middle of the night cycle in pain or feeling weak out in the heat. A stolen fuel rod meant another job which saved yet another credit or two for the covert. He never found pride in his ability to suffer and scrounge, but he never felt guilt in it, either.

This is the Way.

“Where is she, Paz?” asked Din. “We’ll find her, make sure she and the younglings have what they need.”

“Don’t go see her,” Paz said. “We’re both darmanda now — sinners.” The unspoken, true translation hung between them: soulless. “She’s not too proud to refuse what I give her, but I can’t go back. She’s going to ask you, and you won’t be able to lie.”

Have you ever removed your helmet? Has anyone ever seen your face?

“She’s not going to make it if we don’t help,” Din said, his shoulders heavy.

“We can pass her some credits, but save yourself the pain,” Paz said. “Goes back to what I wanted to say to you in the first place.”

Din huffed a soft, mirthless chuckle. “Yeah, what was that about, anyway?”

“What I wanted to say was, you’re still my brother,” said Paz as he sat up just a little further on the bed. “You and I, we were never going to be best friends. Fate saw to that. That being said, I’m still the guardian of whatever’s left of this covert. Despite all your energy devoted to being as big a bastard as possible, I care about you.”

Din couldn’t help the startled laugh that broke loose. “You can’t help yourself, can you? I think it would actually kill you to be nice to me.”

“Call it a part of my physical therapy,” Paz said, smirk wide on his face. “But y’know, I had a minute to sit here and think about what you and I swore to. So much of me wants to pack away the armor and never think on being Mandalorian ever again. Honor the Creed, stay here, make more dumplings.”

“And yet.”

“And yet, I’ve never lived my life sitting on the fence,” Paz continued. “Maybe we’re both sinners, but what does that matter when the galaxy’s so much larger than the sewers and alleys we hid ourselves in? What does a sin mean in the face of getting the chance to go home?”

Din felt taken aback. Never in a thousand years would he ever think the truest believer out of all of them would ever consider turning away from the Creed. He still didn’t know how to feel about all of this, himself — what the Creed meant to him anymore, what it meant to be soulless — but it still shook something up inside him hear the doubt in Paz’s voice.

“And did you find an answer to those questions?” asked Din.

“Not at all — but I think you’re part of the answer,” Paz replied. “And I think I need to see this suicide mission through. Besides, it’s not like I have much else waiting for me back in that rathole, anyway.”

I have nothing left of my old life, Din recalled, remembering his conversation with the voices. I can only move forward.

“I understand that,” said Din as he sat up just a little straighter. “If it means anything, I’m still sorry. Exposing the covert, putting you all in danger, forcing you to live like this — it’s all my fault. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right.”

“Don’t,” Paz groaned. He paused to regain his breath. “Don’t belittle their sacrifice with your guilt. Every single warrior that gave their life, did so to protect the Tribe. It’s our highest honor. May we all be so lucky to die for something greater than ourselves.”

He hated it when Paz had a point.

Din held up his hands in surrender. “You sure know how to cut right to the heart of it.”

“If you want to make this right, we’ll just do it better — better than the rest of our covert, better than the others that came before us,” Paz continued. “You, me, and the rest of the strange bunch you got on this ship. Especially the man dressed like he’s going to a funeral. Little scared of that one, truth be told.”

That gave Din pause. “You mean Luke?” Kind, sweet, gentle Luke that rescued a small, helpless animal from containment? The same man that makes tea and leaves analgesics on the bedside table for his hangover?

The same kind, sweet, gentle man that took out a garrison of stormtroopers with hardly any effort, he reminded himself.

“What about him?”

“Dunno, but I know what danger feels like,” said Paz. “Glad I only pissed you off and not that man.”

“Do you not trust him?” asked Din, his hands clasping onto one another in his lap.

“Don’t know him or any of your other crewmates to say either way,” answered Paz. “But if you trust him, he’s fine with me. Same goes for the rest of ‘em. If you’ve been hopping around the galaxy and none of them have tried to jettison you out of the ejection port yet, must be a little alright.”

“Yeah, they’re good people,” Din said. “They’ve all saved my neck at least once.”

“Guess we’ll see if that was a mistake or not,” Paz said, sinking down into the covers. “Now, shouldn’t a king get on with better things to do than harass a poor man in his sickbed?”

Din stood up without a word, grabbed a pillow off the nearest empty gurney, and flung it straight at Paz’s head with enough force that Luke and Boba rushed in to see what made that sort of noise.

With Paz settled in for the night and multiple reassurances that the med droid would alert him should anything change, tiredness hit Din like a light-rail train. By the time he managed to get to the door of his quarters, Din’s legs felt close to giving out on him. It occurred to him at that moment he really hadn’t taken the opportunity to sit or eat, much less think about anything not concerning Paz or this stupid mission. If he had any sense, he’d shuffle himself down to the galley and at least try to get something down his gullet — but maybe Paz had a point and he just wasn’t nearly as smart as he thought he was.

Before he even reached his door, Din pulled his helmet off and felt the tension in his neck loosen immediately. When the door of Din’s quarters finally slid open, he found a covered plate, a glass of some sort of juice, and a small note written on flimsi next to it sitting on the short table in the middle of the room.

His Majesty Din Djarin, King of Mandalore,

I took the liberty of bringing you up some food while you were with your brother. Please eat up and get some rest — you’ve earned it.

- Luke

Taking off the cover of the plate, he found it loaded up with bread, hard cheese, and a small ramekin of still-warm stew — simple comfort foods. If Din weren’t on the verge of passing out from either hunger or exhaustion, he would’ve found Luke and kissed him stupid.

Platonically. And with his permission. Not like last time.

Oh gods, there was a last time.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his head, Din collapsed his body down onto the floor and pulled the plate close to him, immediately shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. He ripped another piece apart to use as a spoon for the stew as the door opened once more.

Before he could turn to see who opened the door, Ibis, Luke’s little convor, fluttered into the room and landed with a soft skitter onto the tabletop. Din chuckled around the mouthful of bread as he tore a little piece off and tossed the bird a crumb.

“Smelled the bread, didn’t you?” Din asked as Ibis pecked at the proffered food. “Silly thing. Luke would’ve gladly fed you if you asked.”

Ibis, satisfied, hopped across the table and leapt the short distance from the table’s surface to Din’s shoulder.

“Excuse me, dear boy — I hate to ruin your dinner, but I’m afraid we ought to talk,” a new voice said, coming from the small couch across the room.

Din swallowed his bread, already cursing himself for his affinity for cute, small things. Had he any sort of sense, he would’ve shooed the bird out of the room the moment he came sniffing around, but no, he just had to feed him.

The Force must have had a hand in this.

Looking up from his plate, Din found the pale blue specter of a bearded man, dressed in simple robes and a cloak, staring at him like he already knew everything there ever was to know about Din. He wasn’t sure if he should take it as a cold comfort, or if it unnerved him.

“You’re… Kenobi, was it?” asked Din as he took a bite of the cheese. It tasted tangy and a little salty, perfect with the bread. “Luke and Anakin mentioned you. Figured you might come around after the verbal ass-kicking I handed the first ghost.”

The ghost chuckled at him, his pale eyes full of mirth. “You got it in one — I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, master to both Anakin and Luke Skywalker. It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Din Djarin. I’m very much looking forward to you retaking Mandalore and restoring her to her full glory.”

Din’s brows furrowed deeply as he stuffed a piece of bread sopping with stew juices into his mouth. “Seem a little invested in this for a Jedi,” he muffled out around the food. He paused to swallow. “Sorry; I’m starving.”

“No need to apologize — I’ve had those moments, myself,” Obi-Wan said as he ran a hand over a wrinkle in his robe. “No, I came to talk to you about that sword of yours. I believe it spoke to you today.”

That gave Din pause. “I wanted to ask Luke about it,” he said. “Whose voice was that? Was that the Force? Did Anakin lie about me being Force sensitive?”

“I don’t think you’re sensitive, but I suppose I could ask Luke to test you. And as far as the voices, Luke wouldn’t know,” said Obi-Wan. “Unfortunately, the breadth and depth of his knowledge is limited — through no fault of his own, of course. We simply didn’t have enough time with the young man, Master Yoda and I. Life flows on, whether we like it or not.”

Din didn’t respond, preferring to grab another piece of bread and dunk it into the stew. He grinned when he found slices of jogan fruit where the bread used to be.

“Din, are you listening?”

“Yeah, something about flows and yodes,” Din mumbled. “Please, continue.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a beat, but continued. “What I mean to say is, I may be the only person that can tell you what you experienced, and why that’s important. You see, back during the days of the Clone Wars, I — heavens, what are you doing to that bread?”

“Got some of the fruit, some of the cheese on the bread that’s soaked up with the stew juices,” Din said before putting the whole concoction into his mouth. He greedily consumed the rest of the food while Obi-Wan stared on in horror. Din, for his part, couldn’t care less — he certainly wasn’t required to watch Din eat. He could f*ck back off to the afterlife if he so chose.

“And here I thought Mandalorians had couth,” Obi-Wan snorted.

“And just how many Mandalorians have you known,” Din snorted as he reached for his juice. “Can’t be that many if that’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen a Mandalorian do.”

“I guarded and protected the duch*ess of Mandalore, living there for a year on our mission,” Obi-Wan answered with a sniff. “I was there when she died, and I was there when Mandalore fell into civil war. I dare say that I knew far more about Mandalore than you do.”

Din sat up a little straighter. “That’s fair,” he said as he pushed his mostly empty plate away. Obi-Wan’s tone of voice almost made him lower his eyes and place his hands in his lap, immediately taking him back to his days under the tutelage of the infantry cadre. Perhaps this was what Anakin warned him about. “I concede.”

Obi-Wan sighed as he settled further into his seat, swinging a leg to rest on top of his other knee. “We’re getting off-topic, and I’m afraid I don’t have the time to verbally joust with you — as fun as I’m sure the enterprise would be,” he said. “You want to know what those voices were, correct?”

“Yeah, I do,” Din said. “Was it something like you, a ghost in the Force?”

“Not quite. You see, the hearts of our lightsabers are made from something called a kyber crystal. This crystal, when energized, forms the plasma blade of the sword,” Obi-Wan began. “When a fledgling Jedi makes a pilgrimage to Ilum, they choose a crystal that resonates with their soul, forming a bond.

“Tarre Viszla, the creator of that sword, somehow found that crystal out of the thousands that live on Ilum — we don’t know its exact properties, but we know that throughout its thousands of years of existence as a weapon, it’s developed something of a mind of its own. When it reached out to you, it did so of its own volition.”

Din hesitated for a moment, then took the Darksaber off his belt and placed it gently on the table, nearly in fear of disturbing it. A sudden twinge of guilt tightened his throat with the realization that the weapon he’d let bounce around off his belt like a cheap vibroblade was, in fact, something beyond his imagination. Perhaps a year ago, he would’ve laughed at the very idea that an inanimate object could talk to him. After the year he’s had, he’s willing to believe anything.

Such is the life of a man who would be king of a formerly dead planet, Din thought bitterly.

“…So, if this thing is sentient, then why did it let me use it to slice open doors? Weld parts to a ship? Start fires?”

“I cannot possibly answer that for you,” Obi-Wan said. “Although I must say, it’s an awful shame to use an elegant weapon in such a way.”

Din frowned. “This thing doesn’t exactly come with an instruction manual,” he groused as he picked it up and held it in both of his hands. “Hey sword, are you listening? I’m sorry for using you like a torch — didn’t know you were alive. Might’ve still done it anyway, but I would’ve tried to ask permission had I known.”

Obi-Wan could only chuckle.

“I’m trying, alright?” Din snapped.

“I apologize for laughing, it’s not you,” Obi-Wan said, a smug grin still stretching across his lips. “It’s the whole situation that’s absolutely absurd. You know, you remind me very much of Luke when he was in your shoes, embarking on a grand adventure and trying to save the galaxy. It’s lovely, really — truly, life rhymes.”

Din cracked a grin at that, himself. “Oh yeah? I bet he did all this magic stuff far better than I could ever hope to achieve.”

“The first time he trained with a lightsaber, he nearly took an eye out,” Obi-Wan laughed. “No, Luke may have a connection with the Force, but you’re faring no better or worse than him. I’d say you’re doing just fine. Besides, no two warriors’ journeys are the same — you cannot compare yourself to anyone else.”

Sitting with that thought, Din hummed thoughtfully. The image of a younger Luke stumbling around, unsure of himself, a little scared, flashed across his mind and he felt a pang of fondness. He remembered being a young soldier in the Fighting Corps, scared out of his wits and constantly looking for guidance from his non-commissioned officers. It was a comfort, being with other young soldiers and experiencing the drudgery of war together.

Luke had no one with him, at the end of the day. The ones he had, eventually all left or died.

“I guess I’m just out here, doing my best,” Din said at last. “I don’t have your strange wizard powers, and since I’m supposed to keep our conversations from Luke, I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Din watched as Obi-Wan’s face fell. “…I’m sorry, did you say that you’re being told to keep your meetings with Anakin and myself a secret? Who said such a thing?” Obi-Wan asked.

Din sat up a little straighter — this wasn’t where he thought this conversation would lead. “Anakin said he didn’t want me telling Luke about our conversation the other day, something about Luke refusing to speak with him. I don’t like keeping secrets like that, but I didn’t want to upset Luke, either,” he said. “I figured that restriction applied to any Force ghost.”

“I see,” said Obi-Wan as he stroked his mustache. “Well, you’re free to tell Luke about the two of us talking. In fact, I think you should. Ask him to help you meditate with the sword, forge that connection, and listen. The fact that you heard anything at all means that you’re ready — you’ve figured out what it is you want.”

“…Have I?” asked Din.

“It certainly seems to think so,” Obi-Wan answered. “Just know that these journeys are never easy, Din Djarin — be prepared to face some hard truths, but give yourself over to the experience. You might be surprised what happens.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Din said. “Hey, before you go? Can I ask what happened between Luke and his father? I’d like to know why I’m keeping a dead man’s secrets.”

A heaviness rested on Obi-Wan’s face, making him look impossibly old, horribly tired. “I know why they’re not speaking, but I’m afraid it won’t be the best coming from me,” he said, the lines around his mouth drawn tight. “Let’s just say Luke had to face some hard truths of his own, and Anakin still has a lot to answer for.”

“Ah,” said Din. “Then I suppose I need to ask Luke.”

“Well, I shan’t be the one to tell you what to do — it’s all up to you,” said Obi-Wan. “It always has been, even when you thought it wasn’t.”

Before Din could ask what he meant, he blinked and Obi-Wan wasn’t there. Ibis soon flittered off and left him alone in the room. Din wondered, and not for the first time, if Ibis did this of his own volition, or if something guided him to it.

He supposed it wasn’t meant for him to know.

Standing up to take his plate back to the galley, Din almost collapsed back onto the floor — his body protested the movement so much that a nerve in his lower back raced lightning down the back of his leg and nearly took his knee out from under him. Grumbling loud enough to wake the dead, he hobbled himself over to his bed and collapsed on top — armor and all — before passing into blissful nothingness. Obi-Wan and the meditation and the yodes were tomorrow’s problem.

Din wandered around the ship sometime after breakfast. With Paz still resting in the medbay and no further word on their next destination, he didn’t have much to do. It reminded him a little of those days in the old Razor Crest between missions, when he and the kid would sit around the co*ckpit while Din would regale him with stories of his old missions. Grogu, for his part, would respond with little exclamations and, during the most exciting parts, would drop his little ball on the floor.

He missed those days more than he could put into words.

Taking a detour into the bridge — the nostalgia of watching the streaks of racing starlight in his kid’s eyes hitting him particularly hard — Din didn’t find his child, but he did find Luke poring over a bunch of electronic files at the computer terminal located in the rear of the bridge. Luke often kept the overhead lighting off when he was on the bridge by himself, but the glow of the holo display on his face left a ghostly pallor, washing out nearly all of his features. Din watched as Luke leaned his face against his hand, his elbow propped up on the desk as he continued to scroll through pages and pages of information.

“You can come in, if you like,” Luke said from behind the display. “You don’t have to ask permission — you’re a king, you know.”

“And you’re the captain of this ship,” Din retorted as he entered the bridge. He disengaged the lock on his helmet and swept it off his head with ease. “Forgive me for maintaining etiquette.”

“I will never forgive you, Your Majesty,” Luke said, a little smile wrinkling up the sides of his lips as he kept his eyes on the screen. “I take it that the four walls of your suite aren’t as fascinating as you’d hoped?”

“You’d be correct,” Din answered as he took a seat at the terminal. “What are you up to here?”

“Just looking through some of the files I managed to skim off of the terminals at the Imperial garrison at Despayre,” Luke answered. “I found their files on known criminals — admittedly, it was a little vain of me, but I wanted to see what they thought justified their bounty.”

Din wondered that, himself. He’d never seen a puck for Luke’s name or likeness, but it’s possible that Karga didn’t want anyone going after such a large bounty. He might have to ask the old man if they ever crossed paths again.

“Wanna see?”

“Do banthas sh*t in the desert?”

Luke sniffed off a little laugh as he shared his holo screen with the screen in front of Din. As the display flared up, Din blinked to adjust his sight to the brightness of the white background. He considered putting his helmet back on before deciding to simply lean in to read the text. When did words start getting tinier?

“Do you need prescription lenses?” Luke asked.

“I… maybe?” said Din as he blinked again. “I think my helmet display just adjusts on its own. I guess I never noticed the difference.”

“Noted,” Luke said. “Might have to get you into the medbay, yourself — if you continue to walk around without your helmet, you’re going to need to see.”

“And who says I’m going to continue to walk around without my helmet?” Din challenged. “Knowing my display automatically adjusts, that seems like a lot less effort than getting glasses.”

“I like seeing you walk around without your helmet,” Luke answered.

When Din turned to look at Luke, Luke had a hand clapped over his mouth.

“I-I mean-“

“It’s alright, I knew what you meant,” Din said. He didn’t genuinely know what Luke meant, but if he could calm Luke down, he’d say it.

It did make him wonder, though.

As he narrowed his eyes to read the text on the screen, Din’s eyebrows flew up on their own.

“So you have two separate criminal files for both the Empire and the New Republic,” Din laughed. “Your sister couldn’t get those removed?”

Luke scoffed. “She refuses — says that she’s not allowed to get her brother out of grand theft auto charges just because I’m a war hero.”

“Then what’s the point of being a senator?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Luke said, his hands up in defeat. “All that power, wasted. Sure would be nice not to get pulled over by New Republic cops all the time in my X-Wing.”

“You stole an X-Wing?” Din asked, incredulous. He knew Luke was simply a different breed of man, but he didn’t think Luke was a steal-a-ship-from-a-cop man.

“It was my X-Wing from the war — it’s not my fault they decided to use them as cop patrol ships,” Luke sniffed. “Red 5’s been mine for the last nine years. I just never gave it back.”

“I think that’s still theft of government property,” Din said as he continued to scan over the documents on the screen.

“Not if it wasn’t a legitimate government when they gave me the ship,” Luke retorted.

Din thought about it for a moment, then huffed. “Your logic, as always, is flawless.”

As he continued to read on, skimming through the petty crimes of Luke’s New Republic rap sheet and moving towards the Empire’s file, Din read and re-read the charges until he was sure that his eyes would roll out of his skull.

“So, to be sure, this file accuses you of murdering Emperor Palpatine and his right hand, Darth Vader,” Din said as his eyes continued to scan the text. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing that you offed the literal Emperor of the Galactic Empire?”

If Din wanted to kiss Luke before — in a friendly, platonic manner — then that went doubly so now.

“Well, because it’s not entirely true?” Luke said, a little sheepish. “I mean, yes, I did cause their deaths but not… directly? It’s a little complicated.”

“You know that that makes me even more curious, right?” Din asked as he peeked around the screen. “But that’s alright — you don’t have to tell me.”

Luke only stared at him, furrow-browed and clearly confused. Din couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face as he minimized the screen.

“Seriously, everyone’s entitled to their secrets,” Din said. “Besides, whatever I don’t know about whatever galactic political news I’ve forgotten or didn’t hear about, I’ve just read about on the holonet. I read a little about Darth Vader, a little bit about the Emperor — basic things to try and catch up. I don’t want you to feel like I rely on you for everything, you know?”

Din didn’t think it was worth mentioning that he spent all of breakfast studying every article about the Death Star battles he could find on his little holopad. He figured it would help knowing about these kinds of things, being a king of a planet and all.

Luke’s expression softened into a sad sort of smile as he leaned his head back down onto his hand. “You’re very wise, my king,” he said, wrinkling his nose with his smile. “But I do believe in being honest — you’re welcome to ask me anything at any time. And you’re always allowed to impose on me.”

“Yeah? Then can I ask you something that’s been bothering me since the day we were on Despayre and you swiped this information?” asked Din.

“Sure,” said Luke.

“What happened that caused the whole operation to go belly-up and had me fly in with guns blazing?” Din pressed. With the pace of the mission and the insane speeds they had to reach to get well out of Imperial reach, Din never got an answer.

“Oh! Cobb said the wrong trooper’s code number during his big, dramatic speech,” Luke answered. “It’s an easy mistake to make, but I guess he transposed some numbers and someone else in the room realized that one of the troopers he listed got transferred off the planet. Once someone started knocking on the door, demanding to look at his credentials again, we both panicked and started cutting our way through the wall. All hell broke loose from there.”

Din clicked his tongue. “Damn. That was a good act, too.”

“Real shame,” Luke agreed. “But hey, we got plenty of great stuff out of it. Do you wanna see your criminal record?”

“Can’t be as good as yours.”

“Might be surprised!” Luke said as his fingers flew across the keyboard. “…You wanna explain why you have several charges against you for ‘theft of Imperial property’ and ‘operating illegally licensed vehicles’?”

“A man’s gotta have some secrets.”

“So, you’re all going to like where we’re headed next!”

Grumbles erupted from around the room. Fennec leveled a glare at Luke fit to set him on fire, while Cobb groaned into his hands. Din knew a real leader — one that actually had the capacity and wherewithal to set an example — would likely tell everyone to get their sh*t together and embrace the suck, but he sympathized with their bellyaching far more than he wanted to admit. He held his tongue and hoped his silence wouldn’t be mistaken for agreement.

Discretion being the better part of valor, or something like that.

“I swear to every god that if you send us into yet another shootout, I’m not gonna be happy,” Boba said as he nursed a steaming cup of caf. “Getting a little old to be running and gunning like this.”

“It’s like you never even think about what this does to my poor nerves,” whined Cobb.

Fennec snorted from over her cup. “To be fair, His Majesty over there was the one that did all the hard work this last mission,” she said. “He needs a hot bath and… y’know, I was gonna suggest some Corellian ale, but we know what happened the last time Din got drunk.”

Din opened his mouth to say something, but slammed it shut — he couldn’t argue. The helmet kept anyone from seeing the flush burn rampant across the bridge of his nose or the bead of sweat that ran down the back of his neck.

“But it still stressed me out,” Cobb shot back. “I got all sweaty watching them!”

The sound of the conference room’s door sliding open silenced the team’s bickering as they all turned to see Paz Vizsla standing in the doorway, still in his medbay scrubs. Din noticed his cheeks looking rounder, but he still looked like death warmed over. Before Din could shoo him back to the medbay, Paz greeted the room with a half-hearted wave before shuffling towards the nearest empty chair at the table.

“Meeting’s for team members only,” said Boba.

“I know — didn’t wanna miss it,” Paz said, leaning his elbows on the table for support. “Heard there’s a mission coming up.”

Boba gave him a stern once-over before gently sliding the cup towards him across the table. “Drink up then, vod.”

Fennec intercepted the drink before Paz could take it.

“As someone that has no cultural baggage about this, allow me to say it: you look like absolute sh*t. Sit this one out, Vizsla. Get the next one,” Fennec said. “There’s going to be plenty of fighting to go around.”

“I’m good,” Paz said as he thumped his chest with a closed fist. “Antibiotics did the trick. I’m ready to go.”

“Friend, you know that ain’t true,” Cobb said. “You’re probably still out of breath walking here from medbay. Takin’ a breather and resting your body means getting back into the fight sooner.”

“Actually, where we’re going may help Paz feel better,” interjected Luke at last.

The room’s attention immediately shifted back to the front of the room.

A hologram of a planet sparked up into view with Luke zooming in on a specific spot in a large mountain range.

“This is the planet Spira, known for resorts and exclusive vacation spots,” Luke began. “Spira has beach resorts, mountain villas, and everything else in between. We’ll be going to a famous hot springs resort in the mountains with legendary views and hospitality — the water in these springs supposedly has curative properties. If nothing else, the steam will soothe sore muscles and maybe relieve the infection in Paz’s lungs.”

“I take back anything bad I’ve ever said about you, Skywalker,” Fennec said. “You sure know how to plan a party.”

Luke carried on, clearly pretending not to acknowledge Fennec. “Unfortunately, we won’t exactly know how much relaxation there is to be had on this trip — based on previous encounters, this could go a great many different ways.”

Din heard Paz snort a derisive laugh behind him.

“However, I think if time permits it, we could spend a couple nights here,” Luke continued. “I think we’re all tired of the sonic showers on board, and some views that aren’t hyperspace.”

The mere memory of hot water made Din all the more eager to get to the new planet and practically throw their new crewmember on board. The sooner they identified and nabbed the poor bastard cursed to join them on this stupid mission, all the more time to relax.

“So, we have no idea who we’re picking up?” asked Paz, raising his hand.

Luke shook his head. “We don’t get to know who we might meet, just that they’re important on this journey. Will of the Force and all.”

“Seems to me that most of the people coming on this journey have something to do with our leader here,” said Cobb. “Y’got any more people that have some unfinished business with you?”

Din thought about that. A twenty-year career made up of trading other sentients in for money, amongst other past heists, schemes, and sins, didn’t exactly make him the most lovable person in the galaxy.

“That’s a silence much too uncomfortable for me,” Cobb said. “I’m gonna go pack my overnight bag while you stew on that.”

As the Tantive IV slowly broke atmosphere and drifted into the local spaceport, he wondered just what sort of mess they would find there in the mountains — would it be easy, like with Boba, Fennec, and Cobb? Would it get messy like with Paz?

The thought of going through yet another duel to prove his worth left Din feeling exhausted.

Once they landed terrestrial-side, Din nearly felt overwhelmed at the speed and efficiency of the docking and debarkation process. He didn’t time it, but he could’ve sworn that only fifteen minutes passed between the doors of the ship lowering and getting the entire crew loaded onto a private luxury shuttle towards their destination. He supposed on a place like Spira — “The ultimate relaxation spot in the galaxy!”, the sign over the port’s entryway read — every system there existed to make a guest’s stay as perfect and as efficient as possible.

The shuttle itself, better described as a limousine, had the crew piled up in spacious bench seats facing each other. The droid operator promised them a smooth, gentle ride that would last for about an hour from the spaceport to the top of the mountain. A cooler installed in the cab held complimentary chilled drinks, which quickly got divvied out once the vehicle started moving.

“Skywalker, you know how to pull out the stops,” Fennec said as she stretched her legs out in front of her, pulling Din out of his thoughts. “Can’t think of a single mission where I ever managed to get the VIP service. Did you plan all this?”

Din noticed Luke chewing slightly on his lower lip — a bit of bashfulness. “I can’t lie,” Luke began, “I didn’t plan this. I slipped and gave the lady at the front desk my actual name. She said her uncle fought in Gold Squadron, so she upgraded our stay for free.”

“Man, I can’t imagine being you,” Cobb laughed as he relaxed into the vehicle’s plush interior. “You’re a real polarizing guy, anyone ever tell you that? I don’t know if someone’s gonna kiss your feet or shoot you.”

“I dunno, I’m neutral on him,” said Boba, wry grin stretching his mouth wide. “He keeps up this whole making-us-rich-and-scoring-deals thing, I guess I could grow to like him.”

Luke, for his part, looked as serene as ever. “I do live to serve.”

Din heard the dramatic, sweeping bow at the end.

“Say, any of y’all ever go to one of these bathhouses before?” asked Cobb. “They don’t… walk around without clothing everywhere, do they?”

“It’s not a bathhouse, it’s a hot spring,” Fennec answered. “There’s a major difference, but I don’t suspect someone from out in the middle of Nowhere would know that.”

“…What is the difference?”

“Hot springs have an inn surrounding the outdoor pools,” Boba said. “It’s meant as a full relaxation experience, to be enjoyed at least overnight. Bathhouses are just that — a place to take a bath.”

“Amongst other things,” Luke supplied.

Sometimes Din struggled squaring the guileless, sage image he had of Luke with the reality of Luke’s upbringing on Tatooine and his military service — hearing him talk about bathhouses with a knowing smirk certainly didn’t help.

“I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down,” Cobb said. “But none of you still answered the question: what’s the dress code?”

“Guess you’ll just have to look around and find out,” Boba shrugged. “When in Coruscant, and all that.”

A large hand clapped onto Cobb’s shoulder. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know, either,” said Paz.

“We’ll be wrong together, friend,” Cobb said.

Something didn’t sit right with Din, watching his ally and friend get close to his brother — something vaguely threatening and suspicious and sibling-revenge-related. He’d have to sleep with one eye open.

Paz, for his part, forwent his armor on this mission and carried only a small vibroblade in his boot — all at Din’s insistence. As much as this visit would mean for the mission, Din also couldn’t have Paz attempting to haul around heavy infantry armor while trying to heal his body. Despite all of Paz’s best efforts, Din would make sure he would make it through this and get back to being as big a pain in Din’s ass as possible.

If for no other reason than to prove that Din didn’t completely fail his people. And maybe for Paz’s sake, too.

“Everything alright in Din’s world?”

The gentle whisper next to him snapped him back into reality.

“’M fine,” said Din as he tried to visibly relax, hoping to throw Luke off the trail that his discomfort left behind. “How are you?”

Luke only glanced at him sideways, a little upturned quirk of his lips the only thing betraying his thoughts. “We’ll talk later, alright?”

Din knew Luke couldn’t see the snarl of his lips at the little knowing gesture, but he hoped he felt it in the Force.

As they stepped out of the shuttle and towards the inn’s entrance, the droid bellhops whisking their luggage away without a single word from their party, Din took a deep sigh of relief. So often did he go into places that overwhelmed him — either from too many people crowded up together, or from ostentatious decor that made him feel like an anooba out of the dunes — but not here.

The lobby of the inn held a minimalist elegance, with only the sound of running water from the hot springs surrounding them. No large groups lingered in the lobby, no stupid, highly expensive pieces of art offended his senses. Din immediately liked it.

It made him wonder, then, exactly who he might know that might choose to stay at a refined place like this. Most of the people he kept in his company frequented dives and sleazy motels, if they could even squeeze enough credits out to even afford a night in a real room. Not that he judged them for it — he himself spent many a night racked out in some hiding place rather than a real bed.

Din watched as Luke stepped away from the group and approached the counter to deal with their accommodations. He allowed his mind to drift out of tune and just soak in the tranquility of their new surroundings, wondering when they’d be able to hit the springs.

The shattering of a ceramic bottle soon broke him out of his reverie.

Another shattering sound soon followed, and Din turned to Boba to confirm that he, too, heard the noise. They both walked towards the main hallway to investigate. As they approached, Din heard furious, inarticulate screaming coming from down the hall.

“Well sh*t,” Din grumbled.

An employee, a haggard-looking Lepi man, turned down the corner of the hallway and shuffled towards them holding an empty tray. When the host locked eyes with Din and Boba both, his face looked ashen and harrowed.

“Sir, we’re very sorry for the noise,” the host said as he approached the pair. “We’re trying to appease an unruly guest, but we’ll ensure your rooms will be far away from this section of the inn.”

“…rightful ruler of Mandalore?” shrieked the voice across his auditory receptors — soft enough that it likely didn’t register to his companions that didn’t have the benefit of electronically assisted hearing.

“I think I can take care of your unruly guest problem,” said Din as he turned away from the host. “Fett, I need you to stay here and make sure no one else decides to crash this party. Vanth, will you continue to talk to this gentleman?”

“You got it, boss man!”

“Luke, with me,” Din said, stalking off down the hall before Luke could even answer.

Following the shouting from down the hall, with another ceramic-sounding crash punctuating a remark, Din picked up his pace as he continued walking down the hall — careful to not let his footsteps resound too loudly on the weathered wood flooring. He could hear the soft susurration of Luke’s cape behind him, giving him no small amount of comfort that even if he did walk into an active war zone, he wouldn’t do so alone.

Din wondered if Luke ever had to block booze bottles with his fancy laser sword.

Turning another corner, Din finally saw a room with its sliding doors wide open, light spilling out of the opening. A young Lepi woman dressed in the inn’s uniform backed out of the room, eyes wide with fear as a towel flew from the room itself and landed an inch from the young woman’s face on the other wall.

“Send me someone more competent than you,” the voice snapped. The door slid shut with an angry snap, nearly rocking the thing off its railing.

Without a word, Luke slipped past Din and ran towards the young girl. Kneeling down next to her, Luke waved Din on. “If you think you can handle that, I’ll escort her back to the front desk.”

“I’ll comm you if I need backup.”

“Be safe.”

Din nodded as he stopped in front of the door. He inhaled deeply, letting the air slowly and completely fill his lungs before exhaling, letting his frustration sink slightly.

Then he ripped the door right off the railing.

“Who the f*ck are you,” the voice barked. “Did you bring the right liquor?!”

Din found Bo-Katan Kryze, once Ruler of Mandalore and Head of House Kryze, blitzed drunk and laying on a pile of bedding on top of the room’s futon in the middle of the floor with enough empty booze bottles strewn about the room to stock a cantina’s back shelf. Wearing only the inn’s provided robes, her armor piled up into an unceremonious heap in the corner, Bo-Katan looked nothing like the imposing, regal warrior he met on Trask all those months ago.

He fought the urge to groan — Luke always said he didn’t know who would be at these places when they recruited people for this mission, but Din never expected any of them to be in the middle of what appeared to be a days-long bender. He also didn’t figure he’d ever run into Bo-Katan Kryze and her merry band of blue-armored, bird-themed sticks-in-the-mud. Then again, he had to expect that at some point, one of the few Mandalorians still alive and running around the galaxy would show up somewhere on this mess of a journey.

Din’s eyes took stock of the mess, but also noticed something conspicuously missing: her two companions, with no trace of their presence anywhere in the suite.

She stared back at him as though the very act of trying to focus on a single object pained her. Din supposed it did hurt — his own memory of being in a similar state rushing back to him like needles behind his eyes — but he still couldn’t find it in him to sympathize.

“Oh, it’s you,” Bo-Katan whispered, deflated. “Why are you here? Don’t you have anything better to f*cking do?”

“Better question is, what the f*ck are you doing?” Din snapped back. “Why are you here, torturing hotel staff and drowning yourself in booze? What happened to you?”

Her screwed-tight, defiant expression quickly contorted into pain, her body breaking into small paroxysms of what Din could only assume to be shame and self-pity. He wasn’t familiar enough with Bo-Katan to know if her emotions always ran this volatile, or if the alcohol tore down her barriers. From the valiant effort she gave in trying to hold back her tears, Din figured it might be the latter.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she sniffed, her voice watery. “Came here to gloat, did you? Well, you got the sword! You have the power! Left this old, raggedy bitch to rot at the bottom of a bottle!” She stopped to regain her breath, which turned into a strange hiccoughing sound. “Isn’t that enough for you?”

Din truly had no idea what she meant — he hadn’t seen nor heard from her since that day on the Imperial cruiser.

“Stop it,” Din said as he kneeled down onto the floor and met her at her eye level. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“What the f*ck do you care, huh?” she snapped. “No one cares about a washed-up old hag like me.”

“Where’s your friends?” asked Din, quickly deciding not to feed into her self-pity. “Are they somewhere else in the inn?”

At that, Bo-Katan finally broke down into full shaking sobs. Din could handle belligerent drunks, happy drunks, and the occasional lustful drunk — Maker knows just how many intoxicated bounties he’s pulled out of bars before — but not weepy drunks choking on their own mucus and tears. He had to call in the cavalry.

Din pressed a button on his vambrace. “I’m going to need some back-up here. Anyone experienced in wrangling sauced-up, depressed, homicidal women?”

“So, what’s your problem?” Cobb asked as he sat Bo-Katan down on the nearest chair. He stopped to grab a glass of water from off the table. “Drink up, sister — you’ll regret it later if you don’t.”

Din had to figure that of everyone in the crew, Cobb Vanth, marshal of a small mining town, would be the man for the job. He arrived on the scene, armed only with a bag of snacks and his charm. For his part, Din tried to step back but that only seemed to agitate her more. Without blinking, Cobb managed to step between Bo-Katan and Din before she could attempt to chuck one of her empty bottles at Din’s head. A few murmured words exchanged, an offering presented, and Cobb had her in the chair without the need for restraint or sedation.

If drunk was a language, Cobb was fluent.

“Yeah, well, I already regret everything else in my life,” Bo-Katan mumbled, her head lolling to her right. “What’s one more thing?”

“You don’t mean that, lady,” Cobb said. “Dehydration’s nothing to mess around with. Just take a sip for your pal Cobb.”

She leveled a glare at him that made even Din feel small. “You’re not my anything, much less my ‘pal’,” she spat. “Can you please f*ck off back to whatever awful hole in the galaxy you spawned out of? I — “

Her eyes went wide for a moment, then narrowed again. Her mouth dropped open as her head rolled around to the other side.

“Hey Djarin, I need you to get a bucket,” Cobb said as he kept his eye on her movements. “She’s about to lose her meilooruns.”

She stuck a hand out into the air. “Don’t,” she snapped. “I can handle myself.”

“Well, I’m sure you can,” Cobb said. “Was never a question. We’re just trying to help out a friend, that’s all — everyone needs help now and then. You didn’t rule Mandalore all by yourself, did you?”

The tears began to flow again. “No,” she whimpered. “I didn’t used to be alone.”

Bo-Katan’s sobs overtook her voice. Cobb, for his part, looked like he wanted to try and soothe her, but didn’t know how. Din remained frozen in place — he couldn’t deal well with crying, ever.

At that moment, Fennec entered the room with a bucket and a towel slung over her arm. Shouldering her way past Din and Cobb, she kneeled down next to Bo-Katan and pulled a bottle of water and a pack of painkillers out of the bucket.

“Who are you?” Bo-Katan said.

“Not important right now,” Fennec replied. “I need you to take these and lay down. You need to sleep this sh*t off.”

“And why should I do that? Maybe I like being drunk,” Bo-Katan slurred. “I’m not taking orders from anyone — I’m the former ruler of Mandalore, goddamnit.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Fennec said as she popped open the pack and took out the pills. “I’m telling. Take the pills, drink some water, and go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning, and we’ll do this when you’re sober.”

Din looked over to Cobb, who had the same bewildered look on his face that Din had underneath the helmet. They both turned back to watch as Bo-Katan quietly acquiesced and knocked back the painkillers. Although he briefly wondered how Fennec somehow managed to completely take the fight out of Bo-Katan, Din decided it was best not to ask questions. He’d have to thank Fennec later — figure out what her favorite brand of booze was, and buy her a couple bottles.

“You’re a regular beast trainer,” Cobb said as they left the room.

Din did his best to put the door back on the railing, but it was a non-starter. He leaned it up against the door jamb as best he could. He considered taking responsibility for it, but remembered it was Bo-Katan’s room — if she had to pay for all the damages she wrought, she could pay for this one, too.

“Say, you interested in a gig at a saloon out in the middle of nowhere after this is all over? You’d be a real big hit there,” Cobb continued.

“You’d never be able to afford me, Vanth,” Fennec said before turning to Din. “She’s probably going to be useless until about mid-morning, so I’d suggest we all settle in for the night. What say you, your royal shininess?”

“I’ll agree as long as you agree not to call me that,” said Din.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re no fun?”

With the resolution that they would deal with the Kryze situation in the morning, the crew headed towards their promised suites and settled down for the night.

The rustic, modest suites consisted of a large, open area meant for futons and low-lying tables, meant to be enjoyed from the floor. The floors themselves, covered in a soft, cushiony material, provided radiant heat. While Din missed his bed in his suite aboard the Tantive IV, the idea of placing his bare feet down on the floor without wincing seemed a fair trade-off.

Fennec, Boba, and Cobb took the opportunity to pull out the fancy drinks the hotel staff left at their doorstep and wile the hours away around the table, trading stories for shots. Paz, for his part, took off towards the hot springs (with hotel-provided swim trunks) and asked for someone to come fetch him if he hadn’t returned in an hour.

One person, however, remained uncounted.

Peeking outside the sliding door, Din found Luke sitting alone, legs dangling off the edge of the veranda’s floor. Only a twitch of a finger from the hand wrapped around the jar of house wine betrayed Luke’s awareness of Din’s presence. He waited for Luke to say something, but after a beat, he took Luke’s silence as permission and joined him on the floor, sitting to the left of him while facing out into the inn’s manicured garden.

He wasn’t quite sure what sort of dance they found themselves in, but Din felt content to let Luke continue to take the lead. He had all night, and from the looks of things, Luke didn’t seem ready to go anywhere, himself. With a now well-practiced ease, Din unlatched his helmet and set it gently down to the left of him. The cold air immediately found and bit at the tips of his ear and the apples of his cheeks, but seeing the beauty of the impossibly bright, cold light glowing over the tops of the snowdrifts felt like a suitable trade.

Din didn’t need to look over to know that Luke also glowed in the moonlight, hair burnished silver and eyes a pale, ghostly blue, but it never hurt to make sure. A knot formed in his throat as the thought occurred to Din that he could never grow tired of seeing Luke resplendent and glowing, as any wild, beautiful thing ought to be.

He wasn’t quite sure when he began to think of Luke as beautiful, but it didn’t bother him as much as it might’ve months ago, when such a thing felt dangerous to even think. Getting close to anyone felt like too hard an imposition, too much to ask of anyone. He had nothing to offer but himself, and it never felt like enough — not enough for the pretty young widow in the village, not enough for his covert, and not enough for his own kid.

When Luke finally turned to look at him, something warm curled up inside Din’s chest and he wondered for the first time if maybe those feelings had a home here, at last.

“Y’know, it’s generally considered rude to hoard a whole bottle of booze and not offer anyone else a sip,” Din said, finally breaking the silence and willing his flush down.

A teasing laugh finally escaped Luke’s chest. “I think I’m doing you a favor, my liege,” he said as he wrapped a blanket tighter around his shoulders. For the first time, Din noticed Ibis curled up in Luke’s lap. “But, if you truly want it, I’m no one to deny you.”

“I’ll trust your judgment, but I appreciate the thought,” said Din. “I take it the company of the fish in the pond felt better than the company of the crew tonight?”

“They’re good people. I like them just fine,” Luke began. “I just need breaks, that’s all. I don’t have a helmet that lets me block them out.”

I could fix that for you, Din thought.

“Is that more of a mundane sort of thing, or is it a…” Din trailed off, waving his hand through the air. “Y’know, a Force thing.”

“The latter,” Luke answered. He straightened out his posture as he brought the small jar up to his lips. “People on their own don’t bother me — conversations, loud noise are fine. I think over time my ability to tolerate so many presences in the Force diminished. I’m a battery with a reduced capacity.”

A thought zipped straight through Din’s mind, and before he could debate the religious or personal implications of such an act, his hands immediately flew towards his helmet. Din made his way over and knelt beside Luke with his helmet stretched out in offering.

“Please, try this for me,” Din said, his mouth going dry. “I think it can help. If beskar can withstand lightsabers, maybe it can help quieten your senses.”

Luke only stared at him, jaw agape. “Din, this is too much. I know how sacred your armor is, and—“

Din cut Luke off from whatever he began to say as he stood up from his kneeling position and stood behind Luke with the helmet positioned over Luke’s head. “I’m offering, you’re not asking. Please, try it on.”

Luke could only acquiesce as Din slowly lowered his helmet over Luke’s head, letting go once he heard the familiar hiss of the air lock seal into place.

“How do you feel?” asked Din.

Luke didn’t respond for a few moments, with the visor of Din’s helmet still staring out into the gardens. The modulated sounds of Luke’s breathing was the only indication Luke remained with him. It looked rather strange to him, seeing his face over Luke’s own, but it felt, in a way, like an offering.

“I… I don’t feel it,” Luke murmured, almost too soft for the voice modulator to pick up. “It’s just not… not there.”

Din grinned despite himself. “Does that help with the overload?”

“Yes and no…?” Luke replied, his fingers reaching up and tracing the path of the helmet’s cheek wells reverently. “…it certainly feels strange.”

“How so?”

“I don’t feel overwhelmed anymore, but the silence isn’t that much better. It feels… wrong, somehow. Like a missing limb.”

Without any argument, Din reached down and undid the seal, pulling the helmet off Luke’s head.

“I’m sorry, Luke,” Din said as he sat the helmet down. He kneeled next to Luke and placed a hand on his jaw, checking Luke over for anything unusual in his breathing — it didn’t escape him that this wouldn’t be the first time he did this for Luke. “I didn’t realize.”

A cold hand grasped Din’s still-gloved one and held it tightly. “Thank you,” Luke said, a gentle smile breaking across his lips. “I cannot overstate how kind it was of you. It’s hard to put it into words, but… I guess it’s like your hand hurting, then deciding to chop it off completely in order for the pain to stop. The disconnect felt good, and it didn’t, all at once.”

Din couldn’t fully sympathize — unlike Luke, he’s never actually lost a limb — but the sentiment made sense. He held onto Luke’s hand just a little tighter, hoping Luke understood. Thoughts started whirring through Din’s mind, thinking about crafting some sort of device that could maybe dim the input rather than cut it off completely. Maybe once he found the Armorer again, he could get something made out of his spear.

The secret little smile Luke gave him made Din’s heart fall straight into his stomach. Maybe solving this problem could make Luke smile at him like that again.

“You’re always so good to me, Din,” Luke said. “I don’t know what I did to change your opinion of me from when we first met, but I’m sure glad I did it.”

A wince shot across his face as the memory of their first meeting burst across his mind, along with all the subsequent little jabs and teasing shots across the bow they traded back and forth. He wondered if Luke genuinely thought he hated him. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Din never hated Luke. He didn’t really think of him as annoying, or even irritating. Thinking about it, Din just felt —

“Scared,” he whispered. “I was just scared. I’m so sorry, Luke — you didn’t deserve a single thing I threw at you. I hope you never thought I was too cruel.”

“Please don’t apologize, you never hurt my feelings,” said Luke as he leaned into the hand Din still had on his jaw. “I should understand out of anyone here what it’s like to be in your shoes.”

“Yeah? How do you figure?”

And so they talked — as the moon drifted lazily across the sky, the cold still caressing their skin, Luke told him everything. He told Din about his family on Tatooine, about how they died to save him, about meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi, about Yoda. About the Emperor and Darth Vader, about losing his hand. As Luke kept going, something in Din ached tenderly at the way Luke spoke about having the weight of destiny on his shoulders. It hurt knowing he wasn’t there to help carry that burden.

“And so now you’re here, helping save the galaxy once again,” Din said at last. “I wish this wasn’t your problem.”

Luke shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Besides, it’s better than what I should be doing.”

“Oh? You have better things to do than to drag me around the galaxy and getting us into dangers unknown and unseen?” asked Din.

“No, of course not.” Luke wrapped the blanket he had tighter around himself and picked up a sleeping Ibis with it. “The last time I spoke with Master Yoda, he charged me with passing on what I’ve learned and rebuilding the Jedi Order entirely on my own.”

Din felt stunned into silence. If the idea of reuniting Mandalore left Din paralyzed with worry and indecision, he couldn’t imagine how Luke must feel. Mandalorians raised Din, taught him the Creed, fought with him, protected him. He had two Mandalorians on his crew, another likely joining as soon as she sobered up. For all Luke knew, he was the last Jedi in the universe, save for Grogu.

He suddenly remembered what Anakin said to him, and suddenly, his request seemed all the more urgent.

“That’s too heavy a burden to place on a single person,” Din said at last. “You don’t deserve to have that reside solely on you, Luke.”

“That’s not your worry — you have your own,” said Luke. “Besides, I’m not entirely sure if I want to rebuild the Order.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m still trying to parse out my feelings on it, but sometimes I don’t wonder if the galaxy simply no longer needs the Jedi,” Luke continued. “If it does, why am I the one that it falls on? I don’t know anything about what I’m doing, Din — I’m building the starship as I’m flying it — and anyone foolish enough to try and follow me into any sort of future Order would be watching me fail. All I have are ghosts and dust.

“But that’s not your problem!” Luke said, trying his best not to jostle the convor in his arms. “I’m sorry for unloading on you. Here I was, trying to comfort you, and now look at me.”

“It’s fine,” Din said. “Luke, no one in the galaxy’s ever been asked to do what you’ve done, to do what you’re doing. If you haven’t cracked and buried yourself in a cave by now, I’d say you’re doing fine.”

Luke snorted. “I bet you say that to all the Jedi you come across.”

“No, just you,” said Din, a smile working its way across his lips. “And you’re wrong — you’re not alone, Luke. If you have no one else, you have me.”

The way Luke looked at Din made his breath catch in his chest. While a small silence filled the distance, a gentle snow began to fall. A few errant snowflakes blew onto Luke’s hair, but he made no move to brush them off. In an effort to stop staring at the way the moonlight bounced through the snow crystals dusting Luke’s eyelashes, Din stood up and stretched. Luke soon followed.

“And what have I done to deserve such loyalty from the King of Mandalore?” asked Luke.

“Well, I should have plenty of reasons to hate you — namely, dragging me out of my pit of misery when I didn’t ask and getting me shot at multiple times,” Din said with a chuckle. Luke only wrinkled his nose — an endearing little tell that Din wasn’t sure if Luke knew gave him away. “Trouble does seem to follow you wherever you go, despite never seeming to ask for it.”

Luke only stared at him, his lower lip quivering down into a mild pout.

“And yet, you’re still the most loyal and honest person I’ve ever met,” Din continued. It felt a little strange to be so open like this, but if anyone deserved to hear it, it was Luke. “You’re also the bravest, and I don’t know if that’s the greatest quality out here, but it’s the most admirable one.”

“Well, it’s hard to hear something like that without feeling a little, y’know, weird about it,” Luke sniffed, his eyes darting down. “Besides, you’re plenty brave, yourself — can’t give me too much credit. You’re the one that decided to do this, knowing what you might face.”

Din shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I’m not scared.”

“Why?”

“Pain and fear aren’t important, it’s just information,” Din answered. “All that matters is getting to the other side of this. The only way out is through”

Luke laughed. “You’d make a really good Jedi yourself, you know? That’s one of the precepts, said way better than anyone else ever did.”

“Then I guess I can teach at your school someday. Call it the ‘art of not giving a sh*t’ class, or something like it,” Din said as he reached up to brush off some of the snow from Luke’s hair. “You should go inside soon, you know. Can’t have you getting sick.”

“Pain is just information, right?” Luke said. “Besides, I’ve never been sick a day in my life — probably a side effect of being powerful in the Force.”

“Was it like that for all of your family?” asked Din.

“I think Leia was the same, but as for my father? I don’t know; we don’t talk anymore and I never got to ask him when he was alive — he was too busy cutting off my hand and defending the Emperor.”

Din turned to Luke so fast that it startled Ibis, still resting in his arms. “…What did you say?”

“Oh! Oh sh*t, I didn’t realize I never mentioned it,” Luke said, shocked. “I — well, sh*t. f*ck. Din, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think about it. I guess I thought I’d already told you? sh*t.”

“Anakin Skywalker was Vader?” asked Din.

“…I understand if that changes your opinion of me,” Luke said, the softness of his features wilting into defeat. “I—“

Din put his hand up. “No, please,” he interrupted. “Your father hurt you — that’s not your fault. You had nothing to do with his crimes, Luke.”

“Be that as it may, I—“

Din silenced Luke with a gentle hand placed on his shoulder. Slowly, Din pulled Luke into his chest and held him there, with Luke letting out a soft noise of surprise.

“Don’t do that,” Din murmured. “Don’t bring yourself down to his level. You’re not your father. Your parents are the least interesting thing about you.”

Luke didn’t respond to that, simply staying still in Din’s hold. Din, for his part, had no idea what possessed him to do such a thing — he just couldn’t help himself. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest as Luke buried himself deeper into Din’s arms, the convor separating the two of them.

“You’re surprisingly warm,” Luke said, his face buried into Din’s cowl.

“The armor has thermoregulators wired into the plates,” said Din. “I’m never uncomfortable.”

“Explains how you survived walking through the desert with all that stuff slung onto your shoulders,” Luke said as he pulled himself back just slightly.

Din huffed out a small chuff of a laugh. “Oh, so you saw that.”

“Of course,” Luke said as lifted Ibis up higher in his arms. “And I’m sorry about that bout of self-pity — you won’t see that from me again.”

An idea raced through Din’s mind and, before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, he reached out to Luke’s hands and scooped Ibis up into his own arms.

“I’m going to go on a walk with the little guy,” Din said as he took the cape from around his back and wrapped Ibis up in it, much the way he would do with Grogu. “And Luke?”

“Yes?”

“You’re allowed to feel things,” Din said as he stepped out into the garden. “Please go get warm — I’ll be back soon, alright?”

And without looking back, Din marched out into the snow with Ibis in tow.

“Anakin!” Din shouted, clutching Ibis to his chest and keeping the convor warm. “We need to talk!”

“So, you understand now?”

Din turned around to find a ghost, expecting it to look like the young, roguish man he met the other day, but finding a horribly decrepit, grey thing in his stead. The sad shape hunched itself onto the ground. It wore some sort of mech armor, carrying life support equipment, and a strange helmet with a piece slashed out of the face to reveal one terrible eye glaring back at him. The ghost had an arm missing. A harsh, mechanical breathing sound cut through the air.

“What happened to you?” Din asked.

“I killed Anakin Skywalker,” the ghost answered. “I killed him because he was weak, and I killed the love of his life because she made him weak, because my master promised me safety and order. This lump of flesh called ‘Vader’ was all that remained.”

A chill sped up Din’s spine, the horror crashing into him all at once — perhaps as it once did for Luke.

“You’re Luke’s father,” Din whispered.

A dread cackle filled Din’s head. “He mourns me, you know. He held a funeral for a sinner like me. He mourns the man I used to be, the one you met.”

“This is how Luke remembers you?”

“This is the last time Luke saw me,” Vader answered. “When he met me, I was a living nightmare. I’m the one that took his hand — did he tell you that, Din Djarin?”

Din nodded.

“I can’t apologize for it,” said Vader. “I can’t apologize for any of it.”

“This is why Luke won’t speak to you,” Din answered.

“He wonders if he could, one day, become me.”

“Luke is stronger than you.”

“Luke is but a man, the same as I was,” Vader said.

A strange anger surged up from Din’s belly and burned up his throat. Din crouched down low and looked Vader in the eye. “You were never a man,” he growled out. “You were a coward, looking for anyone to provide for you. Men provide for themselves, for their families and the people that rely on them. Even with all your gifts, you made yourself useless — save for your genetic material.”

A harsh, wheezing laughter answered him. “Is that so?”

“That’s why you can’t let this image go,” Din said. “You’re safe here, where you don’t have to care. You don’t have to take responsibility for yourself when you distance Anakin from Vader. It’s a luxury, hiding behind this mask when the rest of us wear our sins every single day.”

“And what sins do you carry, Din Djarin? What do you hide under your mask?”

“None that I answer to you for, Anakin Skywalker,” said Din as he stood up. “Go f*ck off back to wherever you came from; we’re done here until you see fit to act like a human being again.”

And with a blink, the sad lump of flesh disappeared into the snow. Din never did have much patience with monsters.

Chapter 7: Excalibur (Part I)

Chapter Text

Din woke up in the men’s shared suite (the one that Fennec bullied them into), curled up on top of his futon and feeling slightly sweaty in the linen sleepwear the inn provided. Grey light slowly filled the room as he blinked himself back into existence. He slowly sat up, his eyes bleary, and looked around the room. He spotted Cobb and Paz snoring away near the traditional coal stove, their futons nearly touching. He looked over to Luke’s futon, already neatly folded and put away in the corner. Din remembered Luke mentioning his morning routine of meditation and katas, so he figured that’s where he must be.

He wondered to himself, and not for the first time, if he shouldn’t try to be more diligent about his own training. Maybe get up with the start of the day cycle, like a warrior dedicated to his craft. Din wasn’t sure if he could live up to that, but the fantasy of it mattered.

Boba, however, wasn’t in his futon at all — nor was it put away. The soft clinking of what sounded like a ceramic cup hitting something solid gave Din a clue. Gathering up the courage to brace himself against the cold awaiting him outside of the bed, Din slipped out of the futon’s covers and padded his way over to the door that led out to the suite’s common room.

Sliding the paper-covered door aside, Din found Boba sitting on the floor at the low, heated table, his legs underneath the quilt that covered and surrounded the edges of the table that trapped the heat underneath it. Boba raised a small teacup towards him in a silent toast and beckoned him to slide the door shut. Without a word, Din silently closed the door as tightly as possible in its railing and made his way to the table. He immediately jammed his legs under the quilt and nearly groaned as the heat soaked into his skin.

“Good morning to you, too, Mand’alor,” Boba said with a soft smile. “May I offer you some tea? The proprietors of the inn dropped it off just a bit ago.”

Din nodded. “Sorry, just trying to be quiet,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down his upper arms. “It’s cold.”

“Here,” Boba said as he grabbed a small teacup from the tray on the table. As Din watched Boba fill the cup, he noticed bits of tea leaves still floating in the drink. “This will warm you up. It’s good.”

Nodding, Din immediately picked it up and blew across the top, taking some of the heat off it before downing half the cup in one go. It had a clean, herbal taste that reminded him of forests and meadows. He held onto the cup, letting the warmth leach into his fingers.

“Thank you,” Din mumbled. “And good morning, as well.”

“How did you sleep last night?” asked Boba.

“It — well, it took a while,” Din answered. “But when I got there, I slept fine.”

“Stayed out a while,” Boba said as he took a sip of his tea. “Even Skywalker came in before you did. Started to get a little worried, seeing as you two were out there half the damn night, anyway.”

Din no longer felt cold — if the sweat beading across his brow was anything to go by.

“Didn’t mean to worry anyone,” Din said. “I just needed to be alone with some of my thoughts.” He paused, remembering his conversation with Anakin Skywalker last night, and something clicked for him. “Say, did you know anything about a Darth Vader?”

Boba’s eyes widened, his whole body tensing up at the mere mention of the name. “Where did you hear that name?”

Silence hung between them like a curtain, diaphanous and heavy. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that without sounding insane — how can anyone explain anything about ghosts without sounding insane, he wondered for the fiftieth time since meeting Anakin Skywalker — so, Din fell back on his sheltered upbringing.

“On the holonet — I’ve been researching all the galactic politics I missed while my covert remained underground,” Din replied. It was mostly true, and that counted in his moral codebook. “I have a general understanding of who he was, but I thought I’d ask you. You weren’t underground in those years, so you’d know more than most.”

Boba closed his eyes and shuddered. When he opened them, a faraway look cast itself over his face. “Remember when we first talked about the Force back at the palace? When I said I used to work for a Sith lord?”

“Yes, of course,” Din said.

“That was the very bastard,” Boba continued. “Cruel, unforgiving, dangerous. That man — that thing — nearly cost me everything. If it wasn’t for that sonofabitch and his obsession with his son, I likely never would’ve ended up nearly dead in the Pit of Carkoon.”

Din’s brows furrowed tightly. “His son, you said,” he began. “So, you already know.”

“I was the one that found out for him,” Boba said. “I got the task from Vader himself to track down this pilot that blew up the Death Star, managed to outwit him during this giant battle. Took ages to find the information, and the only thing I could manage to find out was a last name.”

“Skywalker.”

“Got it in one,” Boba said. “Vader lost his mind. Glass cracked, things went flying — I thought I might be next. He swept out of there, as mad as I’ve ever seen another sentient. I think the only thing I managed to hear during his tantrum was, ‘I have a son’.” Boba stopped to refill his cup. “I suppose Skywalker told you last night.”

“Yes, he did,” Din said. “So, you knew and you never said anything?”

“Wasn’t relevant to the matter at hand.”

“You’re saying his parentage doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it,” Boba said. He downed the tea in his cup and rolled the small cylinder in his fingertips as he concentrated hard on the craquelure of the cup’s glaze. “There was no way Vader had any hand in that man’s raising. Besides, a Mandalorian knows better.”

“Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la,” Din said, the phrase coming back to him from years past. Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be. The elders would repeat that phrase to him every time he asked about his family, or if he asked why no one adopted him into their clan. It used to feel like a stick in his craw, but with Luke’s father and with his own son, it rang truer than it ever did.

“It’s not always easy trying to figure out your place in Mandalorian culture,” Boba continued. “Plenty of things I don’t know, didn’t understand — but if I could keep anything, save one tenet, it would be that. Your past doesn’t matter. It’s what you do with the future that counts.”

Din hummed. “Did you feel like you were lied to, coming on this job?”

“Not at all — ninety percent of the people I work with, I don’t even know what planet they’re from. It wasn’t important to me; it didn’t even factor as part of why I might turn down the job,” Boba shrugged. “Fennec knows, because I figured she deserved to know what I knew. Didn’t bother her, either. Does it bother you?”

“No,” Din said quickly, shaking his head. “It changes nothing.”

“Does Skywalker know it doesn’t bother you?”

“Yes — I made sure he knew.”

Boba cracked a smile at that. “That’s good. He values your opinion more than anything, you know. Think it would break his heart clean in two if you didn’t love him back.”

Din’s brain stuttered to a halt — his un-caffeinated brain couldn’t process what Boba said. “What do you mean?”

“Did that droid rattle your brain when it punched your head into the wall?” Boba chuckled. “Fennec’s going to murder me when she finds out we had this talk without her.”

Din only glared at him, his heart racing as his mind worked overtime to catch up.

“You haven’t noticed the way that man hangs onto your every word?” Boba continued. “You’re always around each other, chasing after one another like you’ll die if one of you is out of sight for too long. Your conversations go on for-goddamn-ever. He’s always fussing after you, making sure your dumbass is fed and well-rested. No one else would’ve gotten you into bed when you were drunk, that’s for damn sure.”

“That’s… I’m just a part of his prophecy,” Din mumbled. “He feels obligated to protect me. He’s a good man, besides. Luke is my friend.”

As the words left his mouth, Din thought they tasted like sand.

“Bullsh*t,” Boba said with no real venom. “I don’t know if you really believe that, or if you’re trying to protect yourself, but think about this — if all of this was just obligatory, then why was it when you two stayed with me at the Palace, he ran to you when the priests went after him that night?”

The memories of that night, Luke standing in the hallway with his lightsaber at the ready, rushed back to Din. He remembered the terror and the exhilaration he felt as he rushed to Luke’s side, but it wasn’t up until this point that Din ever considered the fact that Luke never needed Din’s help — not with the B’omarr priests, not with any of their enemies.

Did — was it possible that Luke just wanted him there?

“Does it make sense now?” asked Boba.

“I… maybe?” Din said. “Is he making me feel better, including me in these fights? Does he pity me?”

Boba groaned loudly. At that moment, Fennec entered the common room from her own smaller room, also dressed in the inn’s sleepwear. Her hair hung past her shoulders, braids loosened and ribbon-less. The sight of her outside her normal business attire distracted Din from the pillow she lobbed straight at his head.

“You two are so loud,” Fennec hissed. His ears rang a little from the sudden head trauma. “Djarin, you’re goddamn stupid. Skywalker involves you in things because you make him feel better. He likes having you around. If anyone’s pitiful here, it’s him for being in love with someone as dumb as you. Now, will you take this sh*t outside so I can go back to sleep?”

And with that, Fennec slid the thin paper door closed.

Boba hmphed. “Well, that’s not how I wanted to say that, but y’know? Sure.”

A flush bloomed furious and screaming hot up Din’s neck and across his face, even up into his hairline. None of it made sense, and he couldn’t parse any of it out. There was nothing special about him, nothing that made sense for someone like Luke to… to —

“Now that you know, it’s up to you on how to handle the situation,” Boba said as he poured himself another cup. “You can continue the way you have, you can tell him you love him back — be ready to accept the consequences either way.”

Din opened his mouth to answer, but nothing he could think to say mattered.

“Sit with it a while,” said Boba as he took another sip of the tea. “Sleep on it. Just don’t ignore it.”

Din nodded dumbly as he sat at the table with his rapidly cooling tea. He watched as the steam curled off the surface in a lazy stream, wondering how he could also sublimate himself into nothing.

“By the way, it’s not a sin to yearn, to want,” Boba said. “I know you lived the monastic lifestyle there for the longest, but getting to do something for you? That’s all there is to life. Besides, this whole mission to save Mandalore hinges on you being your best — go be great.”

Din hummed. He wondered, and not for the first time, when he’d stop hearing that. “Hey, how did you…? Because I didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t have seen it,” said Boba as he stood up. “You weren’t looking for it. It was obvious to anyone else with eyes, the way you two fall into each other’s orbits. But you know what did it for me?”

“What?”

“You’re sitting here without your armor, aren’t you?”

As Boba shuffled out of the front room and back into the room, Din tried not to laugh at himself. Vulnerability was strange — even the word itself felt sticky and raw, a peeled-open fruit waiting for teeth to rip him open. He couldn’t put a name to that feeling, and if it was love, he wasn’t sure how he could ever speak of it without wanting to die.

Well, he figured, the only way out is through.

He would think more on it when time wasn’t of the essence. Shortly, he’d have to face a sobered-up Bo-Katan Kryze, and that seemed like a much smaller mountain to climb than anything having to do with his personal feelings.

A soft sound of a door opening behind Din made him shift in his seat. At the entryway stood Luke, dressed in a black compression top and loose pants, with the rising sun shining through his hair and giving him a soft glow. Din watched as Luke rubbed a soft towel over his face and through his hair, the sight strangely intimate. When Luke finally looked up, his hair sticking up at random angles around his head, he gave Din a smile so endearing and soft that it made Din’s heart ache just looking at him. Despite all the sweat gathered on his skin and bits of wet leaves stuck to his arms, Din thought Luke might just be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Sometimes, Luke’s perfect timing really dug underneath Din’s skin.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Luke whispered as he shut the door behind him, careful not to wake Cobb and Paz still in the men’s suite. He made his way over to the heated table and took Boba’s former seat. “How are you doing this morning?”

“I’ll be doing better once you stop calling me that,” Din said as he took another cup from the tea service and poured Luke a cup of the still-steaming tea. “You can call me by my name, just like everyone else.”

“Oh, thank you,” Luke murmured as Din passed him the small cup. “Does it bother you, reminding you you’re a king?”

There were probably many ways Din thought he could answer that question, but he could only rely on the truth.

“It makes me think you’re trying to keep your distance,” Din said. “You… you don’t have to, you know. I’m just Din Djarin, no matter what happens.”

Luke hummed. “I can see how that would feel,” he said around the rim of the cup as he lifted it up to his mouth. He paused to take a sip. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable — most of the time, I only mean to mess with you. Unless the situation calls for it, I’ll do my best to lay off the titles.”

“Thank you,” Din said, ducking his head away.

A rush of shame suddenly ran hot across his face. Why did he care so much what Luke called him, when he knew damn well that it wasn’t all that serious? What kind of thing was that to say, the first thing in the morning to someone you… you l-

-cared about?

“How was your training session this morning?” asked Din, quickly trying to drop that line of thought.

“It went very well, thank you,” answered Luke. “It’s still cold outside — in some places, the snow’s piled up halfway up my shin. I enjoyed being out in it.”

“I figured a man from the desert wouldn’t appreciate it,” Din said. “Or maybe he appreciates it more than most.”

“I suppose it’s the latter,” Luke said. With a twitch of his fingers, the pot lifted itself up from the table and floated its way over to his cup. Din watched as the pot filled the cup and took its place back at the service. “Unless it’s Hoth levels of snow — I can live without ever seeing that again. It’s funny, the things we never thought we’d end up wanting often end up being the things we look for the most.”

Din could only hum in agreement. How very strange, indeed.

Luke stood up slowly, careful not to ram his knees into the low table. “Thank you for the tea, Din — it was very good,” he said as he straightened himself out. “I’m going to get cleaned off. I probably reek.”

“Didn’t even notice,” said Din. “But if you feel that poorly about it, see if they can hose you off in the back.” He winced at the myriad possible interpretations of what he said.

Maybe he was worse off than he realized.

“Maybe I’ll just use the Force, shed all the dirt and sweat off that way,” Luke said with a laugh as he made his way to the door that led out to the main hall of the inn.

“If you do that, I’ll never forgive you,” Fennec’s voice shouted from the side room.

“There’s the verdict,” Din said. “You might want to go — she might dump water on you while you’re sleeping if you don’t.”

“You know, some small desert critters roll around in sand to keep clean,” said Luke as he slid open the door. “Might see if I can get to the artificial beaches here, get the stink off me that way.”

Fennec let out a loud, frustrated groan that rattled the thin paper of the door as Luke laughed. He finally made his way out of the room and out towards the baths, but not before giving Din a sly wink and another grin. A furious crimson flushed hot across the apples of his cheeks. He was glad no one else was around to see it.

Today would be an incredibly long day.

“I’m not going.”

Din felt surprisingly satisfied with that answer. He respected straight answers. He gave Luke a nod, and picked up his helmet from its resting place on the floor next to him. They did a good deed, calmed things down at the inn and made sure she survived the night, but they could be done with her and move onto the next poor sucker. However, Luke pinned him in place with a glare fit to set him on fire. Din sat the helmet back down, but not without a soft growl.

He understood, but he didn’t have to like it.

“Lady Kryze, please,” said Luke as he tried to force a smile across his face. Din noticed Luke trying and failing to unclench the fingers he kept in his lap. “I don’t think I can overstate just how important this mission is. While I respect your history with both Din Djarin and Mandalore itself, this is a chance to start anew. Please reconsider — the galaxy depends on it.”

Bo-Katan sniffed as she sipped at her tea. “Yeah, sure, the galaxy depends on it,” she groused. “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another. You’re barely out of childhood, Skywalker. This galaxy’s been in trouble long before this prophecy, or any of the other ones that portend widespread doom.”

“I know all too well what it means to serve the galaxy, ma’am,” Luke said, keeping his tone civil. “I lost a hand in the name of bringing down the Empire. I’m older than I seem.”

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow at that. “Be that as it may, I don’t see how some new prophecy should compel me to risk my life for the nth time in order to restore a dead planet.”

“It’s no longer dead.”

“It’s certainly not what it used to be,” Bo-Katan retorted. “Whatever new world you’re creating, there’s no room in it for warriors like me. And that’s fine — I’d just rather be honest about it, that’s all.”

“Is that why your companions took off, or was that just your dazzling wit and personality?” Fennec cut in. “Because you seem to be doing so splendidly with your own new world here.”

Anger flashed hot and sharp across Bo-Katan’s face. “They took off because they’re cowards,” she snarled. “I never needed them.”

“And I suppose you have a grand unification plan for Mandalore?” asked Boba, the disinterest on his face plain.

“Not at all,” Bo-Katan answered. “I give up. It’s done. Mandalore can be a… a grown-over wild planet and it will not matter to me at all. Trying something over and over again is the very definition of insanity, and I’d like to spend what’s left of my life not raking myself over the coals for nothing.”

“Didn’t figure you for a quitter,” Boba said.

“Didn’t figure you for a recurring pain in my ass, and yet, here we are,” Bo-Katan parried. “Not that I owe any of you people any explanation, but I’m goddamn tired of someone needing me. It’s been made abundantly clear that I’m not needed — the Mand’alor here put the final nail in that coffin. Let me rot out my liver here in peace.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter, Your Majesty,” Bo-Katan said, her nostrils flaring. “It’s good to see you’ve started stepping away from your cult’s brainwashing tactics, but whatever’s to become of Mandalore is no longer my problem. You can all weld your helmets to your faces for all I care.”

Paz, sitting on a cushion somewhere off to his left, snarled. Din had to redirect the conversation.

“You know damn well I offered you this stupid sword,” Din fired back. He wasn’t going to sit here and be insulted, like he actually had ambitions or something. “I’m not going to pretend to understand your baggage, but let’s be fair — I had nothing to do with whatever your pity party’s about. You lost this sword in the first place.”

“Oh, so the man who would be king won’t take responsibility for something,” Bo-Katan said, a cruel grin growing across her face. “I suppose things always just happen to you, don’t they? You never ask for these things, they just land on your doorstep, right? You never asked to be a Mandalorian, you never asked for your kid, never asked for the sword? A perpetual victim dressed in a crown.”

Din grimaced and fixed his mouth to say something back, but he froze. He wanted to say anything to defend himself, anything to wipe that smug look off her face, but she was right. His eyes darted around the room as the rest of the crew looked away, not meeting his eyes. When he turned to Luke, Din saw the briefest glimpse of disappointment cross his features before training his expression back into neutrality.

Oh. So, there was the truth of it.

In all the times that he looked up to the stars, prayed to gods he didn’t believe in, Din always asked the same question: “Why me? Why not someone else who wanted this?”. He never remembered yearning for great adventure when he was a young man — Din was beroya at sixteen. He’d lived adventures enough for any one person’s lifetime before he turned twenty. When the kid first showed up in his life, Din only saw him as a bounty. When Luke pulled him out of that cantina and onto the Tantive IV, Din felt much like Bo-Katan did now. He just wanted the galaxy to pass him by.

And that, Din realized, was the sin. Rescuing Grogu and showing his face to him wasn’t a sin, trying to navigate this new way of life wasn’t a sin, it was thinking he could’ve opted out in the first place. Complacency. Complicity. Stagnation and acquiescence. His weariness wasn’t an explanation, it was an excuse. He wasn’t trying to play the cards he’d been dealt, he was throwing them on the table and trying to cash in his chips because he didn’t like the rules.

All the other players finally seemed to be tired of his sh*t, and Din knew they had every right to be pissed off. He had to make it right.

“That’s not fair, Lady Kryze,” Luke said, breaking the silence. “The Mand’alor may not have necessarily asked for this mission, but he is here — and that’s more than I can say for you, ma’am.”

“Oh, hush,” Bo-Katan said, her eyes rolling dramatically. “If you’re so keen on accepting responsibility, then why haven’t you apologized for the sins of your father yet? Or were you banking on no one figuring out Daddy’s alter ego?”

The room fell into a tense silence. The look that crossed Luke’s face — something akin to abject horror — sparked something deep inside Din’s chest. He could handle any aspersions cast against his own character, but Luke did nothing to deserve her ire. Anger subsumed his shock as Din sat up straighter, squared his shoulders, and fixed his glare straight back at Bo-Katan.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Din snapped “I get that you’re hurting — you’re probably hung over and you’re feeling down on yourself, but you have no right to talk about things you can’t possibly understand.”

“Not a very Mandalorian thing to say, blaming someone for their parent’s faults,” Boba supplied.

“The Kryze family has no right to speak on anyone’s sins,” Paz added.

“I think she’s just being a c*nt for no reason,” Fennec spat.

“Wait, I thought Anakin Skywalker was your father,” Cobb said. “What’s the lady talking about?”

Bo-Katan’s eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, someone hasn’t been honest!” she cackled. “Master Skywalker here hasn’t told you what became of General Skywalker after the fall of the Republic?”

“He died defending the Jedi Temple,” Cobb replied. “Everyone knows that.”

Her grin threatened to split her face in two. “That’s not what happened at all.”

“You will not continue that story,” Din snapped, his voice growing louder, imperious. “You don’t own that story, you have no right to tell it. You can be angry with me, but you’ll leave him alone. Drop it.”

The smug look on Bo-Katan’s face fell. “Shouting at a noble lady isn’t very polite of you, my liege,” she ground out.

“If you want to settle this like Mandalorian nobles, we can take this outside,” Din shot back. “We can discuss this all you like with every weapon in your arsenal. I’ll bring my own.”

“Stop!”

Din looked back to Luke, already on his feet. “No one needs to get hurt over this,” Luke said. “If you want the full truth of it, I’m happy to share.”

“Everyone’s entitled to their own stories, their own secrets,” Cobb interjected. “If there’s something more he’d like to say, I’m sure Luke here’s willing to share that on his own time. You don’t owe me anything.”

Din knew there was a reason he liked Cobb.

“Thank you,” Luke said, a sad sort of smile crossing his face. “We’ll talk about it over some beer, I promise.”

“You owe Master Skywalker an apology,” Din said, turning back to Bo-Katan. “Whether you choose to stay behind or come with us, he deserves it.”

“I’ll apologize when you do, Your Majesty,” Bo-Katan sneered, “for thinking you’re somehow too good for all of this in the first place. Tell you what — if you apologize formally, I’ll do the same. We’ll be square.”

“He will do no such thing!” Paz snapped. Din watched Paz rise from his cushion on the floor, his face alight with fury. “What right do you have to demand an apology from your king?!”

“My king? I didn’t realize he’d ascended so fast,” she sniped back. “Is your king somehow above atoning for his mistakes?” Bo-Katan responded coolly, her voice remaining even-keeled.

For Din, it wasn’t even a question. If it meant Luke didn’t look like someone tried to rip his heart out again, Din would kneel on glass if he had to. He slowly shifted his body, his knees immediately moving into ijaa cetar, the ‘honor kneel’, with his ass sitting on top of his heels. Removing the hilt of his sword and setting it to his left, Din made sure she noticed the sign of contrition. He bowed his head down and kept his eyes trained on the ground as he moved his hands out in front of him and rested the weight of his upper body into the tips of his fingers on the floor. It hurt to hold the position — it was meant to hurt, and he knew she knew that.

“Vod,” Paz whispered. He couldn’t remember the last time Paz called him ‘brother’ like that. “Please don’t do this. Kings do not kneel.”

Din remained in his place, waiting for Paz to take his silence as an answer.

“Skywalker,” Paz whispered. “Please.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Luke said at last. Din looked up from the floor to meet his eyes, concern darkening his face. “Lady Kryze, I may not understand your feelings, but I understand how deep they run. Please, can we come to a solution that doesn’t require anyone to kneel like this?”

“Thank you, but it’s alright,” Din said at last. “I choose to do this — not for Master Skywalker’s sake, but for my own.”

The room fell silent once again as Din shifted back into position. He swallowed.

“For the longest time, I acted as though this responsibility was not my problem. I could say that it was all in effort to keep my child safe, to remain humble and avoid the sin of ambition, but that’s only part of it. I didn’t treat Mandalore as my home, believing that survival was more important than trying to thrive,” Din said, keeping his eyes low and his voice steady. “I’ve since come around, and I am sorry for not treating this as gravely as I should’ve. Lady Kryze, I apologize for offending you and taking you for granted.” He inhaled sharply. “In turn, I ask that you remember Mandalore called out for aide — these are the knights that answered. Mandalore owes them a debt of gratitude.”

Silence answered him. He could hear his own breathing, and that of everyone else’s in the room. When he finally lifted his head, Din expected to see a self-satisfied grin across Bo-Katan’s face. What he saw instead was something more like despair.

“I-I’m sorry,” Bo-Katan said, her voice soft and cracking. He watched as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “This wasn’t right. I didn’t think — I’m sorry. I’ve made a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” asked Din.

“I’m sorry, give me a moment,” Bo-Katan mumbled as she quickly stood up and shuffled out of the room.

As the paper door closed shut behind her, Din shifted himself out of ijaa cetar and stood up slowly, letting the blood flow back down into his legs once again. He winced as his flesh stabbed and tingled, but he couldn’t let himself sit back down.

“I meant what I said,” Din announced. “I understand if some of you doubted my commitment, but I’m here until the mission’s over. Thank you for your patience with me.”

“Never doubted you, boss man,” Cobb said, a playful smile on his face as he shifted himself to stand.

Din looked over to Paz, who slowly made his way over to Din and clapped a large hand on Din’s shoulder. “You did good, Your Majesty,” Paz said before walking out of the room.

Boba and Fennec simply gave Din a knowing nod as they left the room, and Cobb soon followed with questions about the location of the inn’s bar. That left only Din and Luke in the room.

“So, what do you think?” asked Din.

“Do you have to ask?” answered Luke, the clouds over his face lifting. Din couldn’t help but smile back. “You did amazing — you handled it like a king.”

“Yeah?”

“You broke your opponent down into tears without coming to blows,” said Luke. “I know you said you weren’t a diplomat, but I think you proved yourself wrong.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to make her cry,” Din sniffed. “I just did what I thought was right. No talent there.”

“It’s never the goal to hurt someone in a negotiation, but you did throw her off her game — I’d say that’s as much a win as anyone could’ve hoped for,” Luke said. “I think she’ll come to forgive you.”

Din nodded. “I hope so.”

“There’s a deep hurt, a horrible bruise — she’s lashing out,” Luke continued. “She wanted to upset me, but it wasn’t personal.”

“No? It seemed fairly personal to me,” Din said. “Then again, I guess you’re right — it could’ve been anyone. Surprised she didn’t go after Boba’s father.”

“Boba told me she tried that already,” said Luke. “I don’t take her as someone that repeats tactics.”

Din supposed Luke had a point.

“And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for trying to interfere,” Luke said. “It just didn’t sit right with me, the idea of you prostrating yourself because you thought she insulted me. Your knights serve you. I’m happy to take blaster fire for you — both literal and figurative.”

“And a king serves his people in turn,” Din chided, his nose wrinkling. He wondered if Luke would recognize it as his own tell. “Besides, that apology was as much directed towards you and the rest of the crew as it was to her. I had to make things right.”

Luke tilted his head, as if he could physically turn the concept over in his mind. “What apology do you feel you owe me?”

“I saw the look on your face when she accused me of dodging responsibility,” Din answered. “That wasn’t easy to see, but I understood it. I am sorry if I ever made you doubt me — truly.”

“I… I didn’t mean that I agreed with her,” Luke said. His teeth worried at his bottom lip. “I would’ve never agreed with that.”

“But I haven’t exactly made this mission easy — I know that,” said Din.

“I never expected you to make it easy,” Luke said, and with the way he co*cked his head, Din knew he meant it. “It’s why I’m here. As much as I’m sure it pains you, you need me and my stupid wizard ways.”

“I think you may be right,” said Din. “Still, are you alright? I know you said it wasn’t personal, but I could be forgiven for thinking so.”

“I’m fine,” Luke said, his face softening just a little. “I’m still not very good at masking those ugly, immediate emotions. Maybe I should get a helmet like yours, block out the Force and other people. Might make it easier to exist out there in the world.”

An unbidden emotion of his own bubbled up in Din’s stomach, but he pushed that aside.

“That doesn’t always help, unfortunately,” Din said, stopping to groan out loud as bent over to pick up his helmet. “If people can’t read your face, they’ll find some other way to figure you out. Had a droid tell me he could tell I was sad just from the tone of my voice.”

“Isn’t it annoying when people pin emotions to you, especially when you’re not sure you want to wear them?” asked Luke.

“Deeply,” Din agreed. “Especially when they’re right.”

“Oh, especially when they’re right.” Luke gave him that strange, oddly knowing smile that belied the wisdom lurking behind his young face. “So, are you going to go find her?”

“I’m thinking it’s the right thing to do,” Din said as he lifted his helmet and placed it back over his head. He took in a deep breath as the familiar weight settled back onto his shoulders. “Whether or not she comes along, it’s bad form to leave things like that.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” asked Luke. “I can be your human shield — she’s got a hell of an arm.”

“I’ll be fine — dealt with worse,” Din said. “Not much worse, but worse, all the same. I’ll see you at the suite later.”

“Hey, Din?”

“Yeah?”

“You were truly amazing today — you’ve grown so much already and I’m proud of you,” Luke said, his smile bright and beaming. “I’ll tell you this until you believe it: you really are whatever a king has always meant. You just didn’t know it.”

Din couldn’t find the words to reply, and he felt more grateful than ever that he put on the helmet. If he’d said anything before nodding and turning to leave, Luke might’ve heard the crack in his voice or the way he wouldn’t be able to swallow around the lump forming in his throat. As he walked out of the room to try and find Bo-Katan, he bit down on the inside of his cheek, took in a deep, shuddering breath, and steeled himself for the next problem.

It took a little bit of searching, but Din eventually found Bo-Katan at the top of the inn’s roof, a bottle of rice wine in her hands as she stared off into the horizon. He clambered onto the roof to join her.

“I was hoping you were the scary bitch,” Bo-Katan sighed. “Maybe even the hick. Then again, I don’t think I could handle the hick’s boundless enthusiasm right now.”

“His name is Cobb,” Din said as he moved to sit next to her. His legs dangled off the edge of the roof.

“I was talking about the blonde guy, but it goes to show what you think of your friends,” Bo-Katan sniffed, a hint of a laugh in her voice.

“…To be fair, they’re both from Tatooine,” Din retorted.

“Ah, well.”

They both settled into a comfortable silence, the time stretching out between them like the way a cushion conforms to a body. Din thought he could learn to tolerate — maybe even grow to like — Bo-Katan if they could just be like this the whole time. Quiet and focused on something else outside of themselves.

Din eventually reached for her bottle with an open hand. Bo-Katan glared at his open hand, but Din only flexed his fingers in response. She eventually relented and placed it in his outstretched hand. He thought he could get used to this arrangement if they could keep this method of communication. Tipping up his helmet, Din took a swig off the top of the bottle. The booze ran down his throat white-hot, leaving a slightly astringent taste across his tongue. He decided to leave it at that — memories of the last time he drank beyond his limits flashed before him.

“I’ve seen your face, y’know,” Bo-Katan said at last, her eyes still fixed onto the horizon. “You don’t have to keep that on if you don’t want to.”

“I like my chances of living more when I have the helmet on, for what it’s worth,” said Din.

She sighed deeply. “Look, I’m sorry for putting you through that. I wasn’t fair to you or your crew. I really don’t know what else to say. I am… I’m embarrassed.”

“I appreciate the apology,” Din said. “You’re a woman of your word.”

She scoffed. “I don’t understand you, you know,” Bo-Katan said as she reached for the bottle. “You have everything I’ve ever wanted, and you simply don’t care about it. How do you continually float through life like that?”

“I think I said otherwise, but I get what you mean,” Din said as he passed it back. “It’s The Way — survival means everything. If wielding this sword means surviving, I’ll wield it. If giving it up means surviving, I’ll do it. We only win if we live. I know that doesn’t sound brave or noble, but that’s the truth of it.”

“Sometimes living is the only brave thing to do,” Bo-Katan said, a wistful edge to her voice.

“Very wise of you, Lady Kryze,” said Din.

“I’m certainly not wise,” she retorted. “I’ve made more mistakes than I’ve lived years. I rot everything I touch.”

“Don’t give yourself that much credit,” Din said. “All of this is so much bigger than just one person.”

She scoffed. “You’re the man with the sword now — do you think you somehow don’t influence the lives of thousands with just one word? If you re-establish Mandalore, your every move, the twitch of your lip, the stay of your hand will all hold the weight of a given order. When you become a king, you do not get the benefit of the doubt anymore. You are no longer a person, Din Djarin. You’re an idea.”

Din took a sharp inhale in. That thought never truly occurred to him. He wasn’t sure if it was the certainty of the way she said it or if something about what she said simply resonated with him, but he knew he couldn’t argue with it. The more he sat with it, the more he realized that he didn’t know what he was doing at all. He knew what it was like to have people rely on him, but only insofar as to what he brought to the table — both literally and figuratively.

It stung, but she was right. He felt foolish thinking that taking on the mantle was just a means to an end.

“Is it just now hitting you?” asked Bo-Katan. “I don’t blame you, you know — it’s not meant to come easy.”

“I suppose you know from experience?”

“You would suppose correctly,” Bo-Katan agreed. “No amount of grace, composure, or sheer force of will can stop you from saying the wrong thing or falling on your face — you’ll never be free of the weight all your choices hold. I think you’re starting to understand, in your own clumsy way.”

“You think so?” Din asked.

“Your performance in there betrayed you, Din Djarin,” she said. “You’re becoming conscientious.”

“You haven’t been hurtful enough today?” Din retorted. “First, you accuse me of wanting the throne, and now this?”

“You jest, but it’s true,” Bo-Katan huffed. “These are lessons that take a lifetime to learn — take it in stride, will you?”

Din could only turn his attention back to the horizon, hoping that his silence gave the appearance of taking everything in stride.

“I have a question,” Din began, finally breaking the silence. “Do you think the Empire would’ve avoided destroying Mandalore if someone else was Mand’alor? Do you think they would let a planet of warriors sitting on top of an incredibly valuable resource just exist?”

“And do you think the Republic will let you do that? Rebuild Mandalore, with the beskar mines running and our people back at their full strength?” Bo-Katan asked. “I mean this genuinely — do you think your Jedi would allow that?”

“What do you mean?”

“The Jedi were the agents of the Old Republic,” Bo-Katan answered. “A Jedi named Kenobi helped us win the Mandalorian Civil War, long before the Purge, but that was during the age of my sister’s rule. The Republic left Mandalore and the Independent Systems alone because they posed no open threat to their sovereignty. The Empire destroyed us when we did. Will the New Republic leave us alone?”

Din sat with that for a moment. “You knew Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“Him and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker,” she said with a shrug. “A generation ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker’s apprentice Ahsoka Tano helped us expel the interloper Maul. That’s how I pieced together your companion’s identity — ‘Skywalker’ isn’t exactly a common name around the galaxy.”

Din nodded. “Well, seeing as how Luke is the last Jedi in the galaxy, I can’t say he’s necessarily under the control of anyone,” he said. “Judging by his criminal record, he hasn’t entirely endeared himself to the New Republic despite his service in the Galactic Civil War. I don’t see his participation in this mission as being political on its face.”

“Accepting that at face value, it’s important to understand his order’s history, nonetheless,” said Bo-Katan. “And no matter his personal motivations, his involvement will carry galactic political consequences neither of you may fully understand yet.”

“I suppose I have a lot to learn,” Din said. “It’s one of the many reasons we need you on our team — there’s much I don’t know, and only so much Boba Fett can explain before his knowledge runs dry. For memories of a living, breathing Mandalore, you’re all we have. I need your guidance.”

A mirthless chuckle left her chest. “I suppose I am getting old and washed up if that’s what I’m good for — look at me, living history!”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Din said as he reached over and swiped the bottle out of her hands. He set it down on the other side, away from her reach. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re fishing for pity.”

“Good thing you know better,” she retorted. “And now what, you’re trying to dry me up?”

“Someone’s got to,” he bit back. “I can have Luke Force-punch the booze out of your liver, too. Watched him do it to Boba Fett.”

“…I would say you were lying, but having watched Jedi in action, I wouldn’t put it past him,” Bo-Katan relented. “You’re not going to let me out of this stupid mission, are you?”

“You’re a warrior with your own path and a grown woman, besides,” said Din. “I can’t force you to do anything.”

“No? This whole ‘taking accountability’ thing isn’t an attempt to appeal to my vanity?” Bo-Katan asked. “You’re not trying to butter me up, luring me in with promises of glory and honor?”

"Do I seem like the kind of person to do anything like appealing to someone’s vanity?” Din asked in turn.

“We’re not exactly friends. I don’t know your angle and I’m trying to figure it out,” Bo-Katan answered.

Din hummed. “We don’t have to be friends — but I’d like to be allies. Come with us, see all of this through ‘til the bitter end. What else do you have to do?”

“I thought living was the brave thing to do.”

“Giving yourself a chance is even braver.”

She finally turned herself to look him in the eye through his visor. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Don’t exactly have a choice,” Din said. “If even half of what Luke says is true, we’re in for something you and I can’t comprehend. We’ve got to change.”

Her eyes darting away, Bo-Katan took in a deep breath. “Give me some more time to think on it. When are you heading back out?”

“Tomorrow morning, we’re checking out and heading off to the next location,” said Din. “We’ll wait for you at the interstellar docks — look for the CR90 Corvette designated Tantive IV. You can deliver your apology to Luke in person.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, alright?”

Din slowly extricated himself from the edge of the rooftop and scrambled back up to his feet. “Lady Kryze, I don’t ever expect anything.”

“Sure,” she said. “Oh, and for what it’s worth?”

“Hm?”

“You and that Jedi — I get the feeling something’s going on there,” she said as she fixed her eyes back towards the slowly sinking Spira sun. “Don’t get too crazy about him, alright? My sister, duch*ess Kryze, loved a Jedi Knight. It didn’t end well.”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

“The very same,” said Bo-Katan. “How did you know?”

“You mentioned him earlier,” Din said, a little too quickly. The last thing he needed was someone thinking he’d finally cracked. “I pieced that together.”

She nodded. “He loved her, too. In an ideal world, they would’ve left it all behind and pursued their own happiness. But for them… it just never worked out.”

“And why was that?” Din asked, his heart sinking down into his stomach.

“In the end, they both always chose duty and honor above their feelings,” Bo-Katan answered. “Their paths didn’t align, they just… intersected at various points. It hurt to watch, but there was nothing to be done. They both answered to higher callings.”

Din inhaled sharply. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned to walk away and head back to the suite. Maybe he’d see if Boba or Fennec would like to split some of that rice wine they’d ordered, see if they could distract him from all the thoughts streaking through his head like starlight in hyperspace — altogether too bright and loud and beautiful.

“I like that you didn’t try to dodge the accusation,” she flung back over her shoulder.

“Can’t lie to an ally, right?”

She didn’t respond, only waved as Din found the ladder once again and left her on the roof to sulk in the waning light of the day.

With the rest of the crew packed up and the final bill settled (Luke had to convince the owners to take his money, but not without a significant discount), Din felt ready to leave Spira behind. As he loaded up his things in the transport taking them back to the spaceport, he felt a twinge in his lower back — he wouldn’t miss sleeping on the futon mattresses or sitting on the floor cushions. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that nothing about this trip felt relaxing. His own bed called out for him.

Once they arrived back to the Tantive IV, the crew immediately busied themselves loading up the ship with more supplies and doing preventative checks and maintenance throughout the rest of the morning. It felt good to be busy again. After he’d finished running through the engine functions and verifying that their fuel rods were still in place, Din found his way to the bridge. He looked on as Luke ran Cobb and Paz through the Tantive IV’s startup protocol, pointing at various switches and buttons on the panels as he spoke. He wondered idly if having more hands at the helm might make the bridge a little less quiet and lonely for Luke.

An alert popped up on the HUD of the main windscreen, drawing everyone’s attention to the message.

“It says someone’s… someone’s at the door?” Paz said, squinting. “This thing has a doorbell?”

“It’s a big ship; it needs a lot of sensors,” Luke said. “See that key on the panel there? It’ll switch the screen to the camera that alerted the movement.”

As Paz pressed the key switching the monitor’s picture, Bo-Katan Kryze popped up into full view as she stood on the gangplank leading up to the ship’s main port. Din nearly reeled back in surprise.

“Well, would you look at that?” Cobb said from his seat at another control panel. “Guess you were successful, after all. Way to go, boss man!”

“Think she’ll behave herself?” Paz asked.

“Might have to hide the booze,” Cobb answered. “No more all-night benders for us, then.”

Paz turned towards Cobb, brows furrowed deeply. “What ‘all-night benders’ do you mean?”

Cobb cackled. “Oh, Din didn’t tell you? Well —“

“I’m not listening to this,” Din said as he turned to leave the bridge. “I’m going to go fetch the lady.”

He groaned audibly as he listened to the laughter echoing behind him; he walked down the hallway and towards the main boarding entrance.

Once he reached the main port, Din pressed the lock to let Bo-Katan onboard. She greeted him with a stern set to her face, a sharp-eyed clarity that suited her regal nature far better than her previous state. She wore her armor — newly polished and repainted, flight suit pressed — and only had a small case of belongings with her. He supposed he could figure out what she wanted.

“Lady Kryze, good to see you,” Din said with a perfunctory nod. “May I invite you onboard the Tantive IV?”

“Are you the captain, as well?” Bo-Katan asked.

“I also welcome you onboard!” Luke’s voice crackled through the intercom system. “Sorry, couldn’t help but hear through the system! We’re just working out some kinks on the bridge — would you like to come up? Din can show you the way.”

Din offered his elbow and Bo-Katan rolled her eyes.

“I’m perfectly capable of making my way without guidance,” she scoffed. “But… thank you for the offer.”

Din lowered his arm and stepped back to let her inside, shutting the door behind her. She left her case at the door and followed him through the winding corridor that led up to the ship’s bridge.

“This… this is a much better arrangement than I figured you’d have,” she said. “My compliments.”

“This belongs to Senator Organa, apparently,” Din said. “We’re… I suppose we’re borrowing it, for the time being. I’d like to buy it off her — make it the flagship for the new Mandalorian fleet.”

Bo-Katan’s eyebrow rose at that. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Her defense systems are fairly top-notch and her engines are powerful, but I have to say, the accommodations sold it for me,” Din answered.

“Does she have staterooms and guest quarters?” She paused to look at a diagram of the ship mounted to the wall. “Looks like a decent-sized galley. I suppose you could do worse for a king’s ship.”

“That, and the beds are great,” Din said as they finally reached the bridge.

“That’s a silly answer.”

“I know.”

When Din turned the corner towards the bridge’s entrance, he found the entire crew assembled there — he figured Boba and Fennec heard the commotion and came back from the lower decks to see what sort of drama might unfold in front of them. He braced himself for the crossfire.

“Well met, knights of Mandalore,” Bo-Katan said with a short tilt of her head. “Thank you for welcoming me aboard your ship.”

“Thank you for accepting the invitation, Lady Kryze,” Luke said, his smile warm. “We’re happy to have you here.”

“Please, just call me Bo-Katan,” she said. “I’m everyone’s equal here. At least, I hope to be.”

“Oh? You ready to behave yourself?” Fennec said, unimpressed.

“Damn, Fennec!” Cobb laughed. “Give her a little break.”

“No, I deserve it,” Bo-Katan said. “You’re all entitled to whatever opinion you have of me. I’m sure I earned it.”

A simmering feeling of discomfort lingered in the air. Din felt like he needed to do something.

“So, what brings you onboard?” Din asked. “Have you thought more about our offer?”

“Yes, I’ve made my decision,” said Bo-Katan as she straightened her spine and looked Din square through his visor.

“Then let me ask again: will you join us on our quest to retake Mandalore, Lady Kryze?” asked Din.

“You have my sword and my word, Your Majesty. I’m with you all until the end,” Bo-Katan said as she rammed her fist against her chestplate, the beskar ringing as the edge of her gauntlet struck the surface. “But first, there’s something I must do.”

Before Din could say anything, Bo-Katan took a step back and slowly sank to her knees. He watched as she withdrew her blaster from its holster and shifted the weapon around to have the handle sticking out towards Din. She placed it carefully on her left side. Leaning forward, her fingertips gently placed upon the floor of the ship, she bowed in ijaa cetar.

“I want to apologize for my poor behavior,” she said, her voice steady. “I behaved like a brute. I won’t try to make excuses, I won’t try to ask for the forgiveness I’ve yet to earn. If you cannot see it in yourselves to give me the chance to redeem myself, I understand. I just want a chance to win back my home.”

No one answered. She continued.

“I especially want to apologize to Master Skywalker — you deserved nothing that I threw at you, especially anything I insinuated about your father. That was… utterly regrettable. Boba Fett was right, and it goes against everything Mandalorians hold dear. In lashing out and trying to hurt you, I’ve hurt myself. Please forgive me.”

Luke didn’t answer. He moved around the console and moved in front of Bo-Katan, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands into his own. He held them tight, his fingers curling under her palms and thumbs resting on their backs. As she looked up, Luke gave her a reassuring smile.

“Lady Kryze — Bo-Katan — I forgive you,” Luke said, his voice soft. “I see the pain in your eyes and I recognize it as the same that’s in my heart. I cannot hate you anymore than I could hate myself.”

Din could barely hear her voice through his audio receptors. “I’m still so sorry,” she whispered. “I… I can’t imagine.”

“No, please don’t worry about it,” Luke whispered back. He stood up and gently pulled her up off her knees. Then, he pulled her into a gentle hug, with Bo-Katan’s face immediately hiding in Luke’s shoulder. “If you want to make it up to me, forgive yourself.”

She seemed to freeze in his hold before eventually relaxing into it, begrudgingly raising an arm to wrap around his back.

Something warm fluttered hard in Din’s chest, watching Luke — Luke the warrior-priest, Luke the avenging angel — comfort someone in their time of need. He felt like he understood something new about Luke, his loving nature and his gentle soul that hid just underneath the surface of the hardened veteran in front of him. It made him think that maybe someday Luke would see whatever good there was to be found in everyone and see it in Din, too.

“Your Majesty,” Luke said, louder for Din’s benefit, “do you accept the lady’s apology?”

Bo-Katan gently pulled herself away from Luke’s embrace to face her judgment.

“I do,” Din said. “Does the rest of the crew concur?”

“She’s fine by me — can’t say she was any more stressful than this ol’ galoot here,” Cobb said, giving Paz’s shoulder a little jab.

“I suppose we need all the help we can get,” Paz said, brushing Cobb’s hand away. “If the Mand’alor wants her onboard, she has my support.”

“Yeah, fine by me,” Boba said. “Fennec?”

“Bo-Katan Kryze is a capable warrior and a superior strategist,” Fennec added. “She’s an asset to any team. She’s also an asshole, but she can’t help that. I’m fine with her coming along.”

“You’re not exactly a ball of sunshine, Miss Shand,” Cobb said, his eyebrow raised.

“I’m a goddamn delight,” Fennec retorted.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Din said, “I’m breaking this love fest up. Bo-Katan, I’ll escort you to your quarters and let you get settled in. Everyone else… do what you’re doing.”

“Oh! Boss man’s giving orders!” Cobb said with a big grin. “Alright, sir! We’ll get right on it! We’ll come by later and clean the head in your quarters with our toothbrushes!”

“I guess we’ll have to prepare the king’s baths, as well,” Paz said. “You know how much he enjoys the bath salts and soaps from Chandrila.”

“Better cook the king’s eggs just the way he likes ‘em or you’ll get keelhauled out the ejection port in an asteroid field,” added Boba.

“I heard he feeds people to his pet rancor,” Fennec said. “Plans on keeping it in the dungeon underneath his throne room.”

“That’s something I’m planning on doing,” Boba shot back.

“Yeah, that’s why I said it. I need to keep you humble, too,” Fennec parried.

Din ignored all of them and held out his elbow once again for Bo-Katan to take. This time, she accepted.

“They’re all a bunch of fools and rogues, despite their bravery,” Bo-Katan said as they made their way towards the lower deck — the hall where the rest of the crew stayed, in the slightly more luxurious officers’ quarters. “I don’t know how you’re going to get much of anything done.”

“I… I don’t know, either,” Din said. “I think you’ll get used to them, though. Maybe you’ll also join them in making fun of me.”

“Maybe so,” Bo-Katan said. “Maybe so.”

Chapter 8: Excalibur (Part II)

Chapter Text

Being back out in space somehow felt more relaxing than the inn, Din thought as he stretched back out onto his bed. Once Bo-Katan finally agreed to come with them on this mission, he figured there wouldn’t be much more to do — Luke told him there were only two more knights to find and then they’d head to Mandalore.

It made him nervous still. He saw the scans, the signs of life, but Din still remembers the dire warnings: Mandalore is glass, Mandalore is poisoned, Mandalore is cursed. Even if there are forests again, what would it matter if the air wasn’t safe to breathe? What would it matter if the waters couldn’t support life, if the glass still littered the ground and clearing it took generations? What if the curse wasn’t a literal blight, but a prophecy that Mandalorians would always destroy Mandalore?

Din couldn’t answer any of those questions, especially not the last one. As he always understood it, the Mandalorians that strayed from the Way caused their ultimate downfall — now, with him laid back on his bed with his helmet resting against his chest, staring back into the visor, he wondered if any of that was true.

Was any of it true? Was he now less of a Mandalorian because he removed his helmet? When he swore the Creed, did he swear the same Creed as other Mandalorians? Could he swear it again, if it came down to it?

He groaned aloud — even when Din promised himself a proper religious breakdown moment, he still can’t bring himself to give it the attention it deserves.

Something else kept digging under his craw. If Din had to place a name to it, it might be something like anticipation — an awful, curdling feeling in his stomach. He remembered feeling like this before big operations while he was still in the Fighting Corps, and again during particularly dangerous hunts while providing for the covert. Despite trying to relax, think about anything else, all he could feel was anxiety. His fingers drummed lightly against his cuirass for lack of a better thing to do.

Suddenly, a cup he had on the table fell over, seemingly of its own accord. Din sat straight up and looked around. He heard nothing, nor felt anything suspicious. There was no air duct near the table that could’ve blown the empty cup over. As Din watched the cup roll across the floor, it quickly stopped somewhere near the bed — without any interference.

The hair stood up on the back of Din’s neck.

“Is this a Force ghost?” Din asked the air. “If it is, roll the cup to me.”

As if the cup understood, the cup obediently rolled and hit Din’s foot. He picked it up, looking around the room suspiciously.

“Do you want me to find the bird?” Din asked the air. He received no response.

Then, something lifted the cup out of his hand and threw it right into the door switch panel, sliding the door open just in time to watch Luke run past it. All Din could hear was Luke muttering something that sounded like, “sh*t, sh*t, sh*t!” as he sped down the hall.

Panic immediately set in as Din reached for his helmet and slid it back over his head. He saw the Darksaber sitting next to it and he hesitated for a moment. Grumbling, Din slipped it onto its place on his belt. Even if he hadn’t fully mastered the damn thing, he could at least still get used to carrying it. Din rushed into the hall and took off running in Luke’s direction, hoping to catch him before he went down a hatch. At the end of the hall, at the entrance to the hatch leading down into the main hallway and the path to the bridge, Din spotted Luke at last, with Ibis flying towards them.

“Luke, wait!” Din shouted.

“Oh, good,” Luke huffed. He opened the hatch door and started to climb down. “We need to get to the bridge right now.”

“Everything alright?” Din asked as he watched Luke climb down and he crouched to follow him.

“Can’t really explain,” Luke called out. “Bad feeling!”

Luke hit the landing but waited for Din to make his descent. Ibis fluttered down and landed on Luke’s shoulder.

“Did you also get a weird feeling? Something weird in your gut?” Din asked as he climbed down.

“…Yes,” said Luke. The moment Din hit the floor, Luke took off towards the bridge. “We can talk about it later — bridge, now!”

Din couldn’t argue with that. He took off running, hot on Luke’s heels.

Once they finally made it to the bridge, Din found Paz and Cobb at the controls, fully relaxed, manning the bridge for the night cycle. Paz — fully armored, no helmet — looked up at the two of them from the console with an eyebrow raised. Din peered out beyond them and through the transparisteel screen, but he could see nothing amiss out in the vast reaches of empty space. According to the large star map in the center of the bridge, Vandor was the nearest system in this area of the Mid Rim; Din couldn’t think of a single thing there worth mentioning.

Din wondered if he and Luke both suffered from some sort of shared delusion.

“Is something the matter?” asked Paz.

“Yes,” gasped Luke, slightly winded. “Something’s coming. Please slow the ship down to a low orbit speed and activate the emergency lights — no sound, just the lights.”

“Why did you want us to stop if it’s coming at us?” asked Din.

“Better to maneuver out of a low speed than to have it divert us off course while in full motion,” Luke answered. “Her engines can accelerate in seconds, but a collision with a ship this size? Disastrous.”

Cobb reached for the alert controls and the lights plunged into an eerie, staid red. The relative darkness made the stars outside seem even brighter in comparison. From out in the halls, Din could see the lights flashing while the bridge’s lights remained steady. The only sound anyone could hear was the engine’s gentle hum and the breathing of the men in the room.

Footsteps soon followed, and Din turned around to find Bo-Katan standing at the entrance of the bridge. Boba and Fennec soon followed behind her, all of them trying to peer out past Din and out into the depths of space.

“What’s going on?” asked Boba.

“Luke sensed something was wrong,” Din said, keeping his voice low. “I followed.”

Moments dragged past them and the red light began to feel cloying. Din turned towards Luke — still staring out into the vast expanse, his eyes still scanning through the static stars.

“Skywalker, it’s probably nothing,” Boba said, raising his voice above a whisper.

“Yeah, man,” Cobb said as he gently laid a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. You probably need some rest — when’s the last time you got any sleep, Luke?”

Din would have to ask Luke the same question later.

Luke, for his part, didn’t acknowledge their conversation. After patting Cobb’s hand in what Din assumed to be reassurance, he pulled away from Cobb’s hold. He approached the windshield and gently placed his bare hand on the cool transparisteel. Din watched as Luke’s eyes fluttered shut. In response, Din’s entire body tensed up and his heart went wild in his chest: something he recognized latently as fear.

“Brace yourselves,” Luke murmured. “It’s here.”

A flash of light sliced through the sky like a white-hot blade through the darkness, a few hundred kilometers out from the port side of the ship’s bow. Din raised his hand like a shield to protect his already shielded eyes from the brilliance. The beam of light fizzled out, and from its path the open sky split apart in a jagged tear through nothing. Through the rip, Din could see swirling, undefined colors of light — as if another reality existed on the other side. That curdling feeling in his gut kicked back up in full force, turning into dread.

“What the f*ck is that?” Paz whispered.

“An emissary,” Luke answered. “Our enemy sent it.”

“What emissary?” Bo-Katan asked. “What enemy? Did the Empire remnants create technology to tear open wormholes?”

“I don’t know who the enemy is yet,” Luke said. “I wish I could give you all a better answer than that. I just know we need all hands on deck.”

“For what?” Din asked.

“We need to begin evasive maneuvers — right now,” Luke answered. “We do not have the firepower to fight this thing. Head towards the nearest planet.”

“Vandor?” asked Cobb. “That’s way out of our way from the course we projected — are you sure?”

A harsh, rattling screech cut through the air. Din clutched at his ears over his helmet, hoping to dampen the sound coming into his audio receptors. At that moment, Din turned back to the breach and watched in horror as several massive, tentacle-like appendages — some larger than Imperial Star Destroyers — began to worm their way through. The appendages continued to reach through the opening, some wrapping around the lip of the breach and prying it wider. In all his travels, of all his knowledge in physics and astronautical navigation, Din couldn’t fathom anything like this.

“That can’t be real,” Cobb whispered.

“Move over, Vanth,” Bo-Katan said as she rushed towards the control panel. “Help me monitor the gauges. I might need to take manual control here if the computers can’t redirect us in time.”

Din turned to watch her typing furiously at the panel and redirecting the ship’s flight plan towards Vandor. He looked back towards Boba and Fennec.

“Can you man the ship’s guns?” Din asked. “Whatever’s coming through that hole’s going to come for us. Let’s keep it off our backs until we can get away.”

Without hesitation, Fennec took to the battle controls at the main panel. Boba slipped on his helmet and moved to grab Paz away from his station. After a brief discussion, Boba and Paz took off towards the ship’s staircase.

“We’re heading down to the main cannon chamber, getting onto the big guns manually,” Boba’s voice said through Din’s earpiece within his helmet. He could hear the physical exertion from running down the stairs. “I’ll keep in comms with you here and get Paz tied into the channel.”

“Roger,” Din said. “Keep alive, be safe.”

“Roger that,” Boba replied. “Fett, out.”

The silence in his head didn’t reassure him, but Din had to trust them. Looking back at the creature breaking through the rip in space, Din caught a glimpse of a massive, yellow eye staring right back at him, the slit of its pupil finding the ship.

“Luke, what the hell is that thing?” Din demanded.

“Something dead but not dead, something beyond this realm,” Luke whispered, his fingers curling towards his palm as they rested on the transparisteel. “It has no name; it is a hunger — a void in the Force. I can only guess it wants to consume anything that attracts the Force to it.”

“What called it here?” Din said.

“It might be me,” Luke said, turning his head towards Din. “Or, more likely, it might be that.”

“What?” Din followed Luke’s eyes to his hip, right to where the Darksaber rested. “The sword?’

“It is the symbol of the Mand’alor,” Luke said. “The Force surrounds it and clings to it — with its age, its power grows. I don’t think even I fully understand it yet. If someone doesn’t want the Mandalorians to return to Mandalore, it makes sense to find this particular Force signature.”

Din pulled the Darksaber off his belt. “We can jettison —”

“Don’t finish that thought,” Luke said, looking back towards the widening hole in space. More massive tentacles appeared through the gap, as if making room for a much larger body. The screeching returned. “You’re going to need that sword in the trials ahead.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Din asked.

“I’m going to try something I haven’t tried before — I might need help,” Luke answered.

“What do you need?”

Luke held out his left hand. “If you’re alright with it, I need you to take off both your helmet and your gauntlet, then hold my hand. I can use your body and your Force presence to assist me.”

“I don’t have a Force presence,” Din said as he pulled his gauntlet off and tucked it into his bandolier. He pulled his helmet off in one swift motion and set it on the floor of the ship. “But if it helps.”

“I thought I told you before — everyone does,” Luke replied, taking Din’s hand and interlacing their fingers. “Now, I need you to concentrate on our hands touching and keep breathing. I’m going to try and close the tear.”

Din did as Luke asked, willing whatever was of himself into where their fingers touched, the feel of his calluses and the warmth of his skin. Despite the chaos around them, Din felt safe in this moment — like something inside of him simply knew they would be alright.

Was this what the Force felt like? Din wondered. Or, maybe another way, it’s what being with Luke felt like. He squeezed Luke’s hand just a little tighter. He trusted Luke completely.

Din felt familiar little talons dig into the fabric of his cape — he figured Ibis must’ve flown off of Luke’s shoulder and settled himself into his cowl.

Alarms of a different kind began to blare throughout the bridge. “Enemy proximity alarms are going off,” Fennec announced. “Those arms are heading towards us!”

From their perspective out in open space, Din lacked the visual depth perception needed to tell just how big or close the monster’s limbs were. In the black of space, they might’ve already encircled the ship for all he could see.

“Taking over manual steering,” Bo-Katan announced. “Everyone, hold onto something!”

Din could feel the floor shift under him as the ship’s bow listed starboard, but Luke’s hold on his hand kept him steady. He kept his attention as much as he could on their hands together, hoping it really could help Luke in some way. Luke had his eyes shut and his hand out towards the tear through space, concentrating hard on the horror in front of them.

Suddenly, the ship jolted and a different, higher-pitched alarm sounded out. Din looked back towards his crew.

“sh*t, we’ve got contact,” Fennec cursed as she pulled up the ship’s defense systems. “The f*cker’s wrapping itself over the shields.”

“It’s trying to pull us in,” Bo-Katan said. “I’m kicking up the engine power now.”

“We’re firing, but it’s not making a dent,” Boba’s voice barked through Din’s helmet. “We’re trying to get the main f*cking arm off now.”

“Shand, do we have photon torpedoes?” Bo-Katan barked.

“Already arming them now,” Fennec responded.

“We have engines overheating,” Cobb announced. “The strain from pulling against these things ain’t doing her any good.”

Din felt panic rise up in his gut — he should be in the middle of the bridge, helping, leading, doing something else. What good could he do for Luke, or anyone else, when he was just standing here?

“You’re already doing something the others can’t,” a voice that sounded like Luke’s said in his mind.

Din thought about the word “What” as loud as he could — he didn’t know if Luke could hear him, or how it worked.

“You don’t need to shout,” said Luke. “I know what you’re saying. Just stay with me.”

“How can we hear each other like this?” Din said, quieter. “Is this Ibis’ doing?”

“Not entirely sure — I suppose that makes sense, considering I can’t normally hear your thoughts,” Luke answered. “If it is, he’s a very smart bird.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Are you ready? Let’s do this.”

A thrumming sensation, a frisson of something warm burst forth from their connected hands and up Din’s arm. His whole body lit up in pure waves of joy — he couldn’t remember ever feeling quite this fulfilled. He almost smiled at the sensation.

“Do you feel the connection?” Luke asked.

“Yes,” Din said. “What do I do?”

“Just breathe,” Luke said. “And feel it. Ride it out with me.”

Luke pushed his palm against the surface of the transparisteel and released a deep breath. At that moment, Din watched in awe as the tear began to mend itself from either side, the gap slowly closing.

“Is that you?” Cobb yelled out. “Keep doing it! It’s closing!”

“What do you feel?” Luke asked.

Flashing through his mind, Din saw flashes of memories, but not necessarily ones he could recall. Fleetingly, Din heard something that sounded like his own laughter coming through his modulator, or flashes of sunlight off of his own armor. He wondered if his mind conjured images of his own happiness, making it feel more real. Then, as quickly as these images came, they left.

He wasn’t sure where it came from, what caused it, but it felt beautiful. It felt almost like too much to bear, like he could burst if it stayed with him any longer.

“Something… something good,” Din answered. “It’s strange, but good.”

“Good,” Luke said. “When you’re ready, send it back this way.”

“How?”

“You’ll know.”

Din squeezed Luke’s hand harder, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate. The rest of the ship melted away as he focused on the connection, on the feeling of his hand nestled within Luke’s grasp. He didn’t know what else to do, but he thought maybe envisioning the action might help. Din imagined the breach right in front of him, as if it were a small tear in a tarpaulin, and simply pulled it back together. He imagined the sides of the breach healing themselves, making the fabric whole again. That feeling of joy surged through his body once again, something Din might describe as what he imagined wholeness to feel like.

“We’re getting pulled backwards!” Bo-Katan shouted. “I’m pushing her harder!”

“The engines are screaming hot right now! If we don’t break contact, we’re screwed!” Cobb announced.

“Shields are barely holding on,” Fennec said. “Brace yourselves for imminent damage.”

Right next to him, Din could hear Luke let out a soft noise of exertion. That same beautiful feeling left his body as quickly as it came, flowing from Din and towards their connection. He didn’t feel empty, but he did miss the sensation.

Din opened his eyes.

Luke’s hand, still resting on the surface of the viewport, slowly clenched into a fist. With that motion, the breach closed instantaneously, cleanly slicing the endless stream of tentacles and arms as it sealed the boundary between dimensions. Loud cheers erupted from behind them as the rest of the arms continued to float out into space.

Din, letting out a soft sigh of relief, looked at Luke and shared his same soft smile of pure relief. The tension in his shoulders melted away and he could feel his jaw twitch from finally loosening up — they made it through.

“Holy sh*t!” Cobb yelled. “We’re alive!”

“And not too f*cking soon,” Bo-Katan sighed. She pressed a button for the commlink on the control panel. “Fett, Vizsla? Status report?”

“We’re good down here,” Paz responded, his voice coming over the bridge’s intercom system. “No damage to the ship from here, but from the gunner’s chair, I can still see some of the flotsam from the creature-thing. Be on the lookout.”

“Was that Skywalker’s doing?” Boba asked. “I’ll be damned.”

“Yeah, he closed the breach off,” Bo-Katan replied.

A strange feeling of pride swelled in Din’s chest — he couldn’t quite place it, but watching Luke in action made something in Din’s heart shudder. Luke was something wild and beautiful and brave and beyond anything Din could’ve ever dreamed of, and he admired Luke so much. Din squeezed Luke’s hand for just a moment longer before letting it go.

“Thank you for your help,” Luke said — this time, out loud.

“I just stood here,” Din scoffed. “But I’m glad I could be of service.”

“You did more than you know,” Luke said. “The energy needed to do that? Might’ve put me on my ass had you not let me balance the load. How do you feel?”

“You did all the hard work,” Din said. He looked around and found his helmet wedged underneath an empty bucket chair; he quickly slipped it back over his head. “I feel just fine.”

Din reminded himself to ask Luke later about what he meant by “balance the load”. What load did he mean?

“Don’t celebrate too hard just yet. Not only do we have to get out of this debris field, we still have the one arm wrapped around our middle as dead weight,” Fennec said. “I got an idea on how to get it off.”

“Be gentle,” Cobb said. “We still have to cool off the engines.”

“Real gentle,” said Fennec as she moved towards the main panel. “We’ll shut off the gravity simulator and barrel roll the damn thing off. Lack of gravity will keep everyone from slamming into walls — as long as you’re in the middle, anyway.”

“Oh, well, if that’s all we gotta do,” Cobb scoffed.

“Sounds good to me,” Bo-Katan said as she strapped herself down to the pilot’s seat. “I recommend grabbing a seat, or don’t — either way.”

“Fett, Vizsla, are you strapped in?” asked Din. “We’re shutting off the gravity for a minute.”

“Yeah, why?”

Before Din could answer that, Fennec flipped the switch. The sudden weightlessness made Luke laugh as they both floated up off the floor and into the air. Ibis left Din’s shoulder to cartwheel itself away from them both.

“Goddamn it!” Paz shouted through their internal comms. “I unbuckled my f*cking seatbelt!”

“Hold onto something,” Din said, “we’re about to experience some turbulence.”

Bo-Katan rolled them hard portside, the Tantive IV turning over onto its side. Din never particularly enjoyed the lack of gravity, but seeing Luke enjoy himself made Din feel a little bit better about it. Shutting off the channel before Paz’s screaming became too loud, Din allowed himself to let the lack of gravity take him up into the air.

Din found the whole thing rather peaceful, considering the ordeal they just went through. Watching as Cobb swam through the air over to them, Din saw Cobb reaching his hands out for Luke. Luke grabbed Cobb’s hands and pulled him closer, the two of them breaking out into giddy laughter.

“Do you do this all the time?” asked Cobb. “Out in space?”

“Nah, we try not to,” Luke said with a laugh. “Not everything in a ship’s strapped down, after all. Be careful when you get back to your room.”

“Oh no, not my pillows,” Din said dryly.

Cobb turned towards Din. “Was that a joke, boss man?” Cobb laughed. “I guess we’re getting turned upside down in several ways.”

“Leave jokes to people who are good at them,” Din said. He let himself go prostrate as the ship continued to spin around them.

“You all look like jokes to me,” Fennec said from her seat, fully strapped in.

“Weightlessness feels good on the joints,” Din said.

“Feels good on the soul,” Cobb said. “Spin me, Skywalker.”

Luke held onto one of Cobb’s hands and twirled his arm above Cobb’s head, sending Cobb into a gentle spin through the air.

“You better not kick me in the head or else I’m taping you to a f*cking wall,” Bo-Katan said. “For the rest of the trip.”

“Noted!” Cobb said as he spun out towards the hall.

Luke made his way over to Din, letting himself lie next to him. They watched as the world around them spun lazily around them.

“Like I was saying earlier,” Luke began, “remember when I compared myself to a battery? Well, the amount of energy I had to draw on in order to pull that off? It’s very hard to handle it on my own, especially if I’m strapped for time.”

“To reduce the strain, you connected with me through the Force?” Din asked. “I’m how you balanced the load? Like a generator?”

“That’s a good way to think about it,” Luke answered. “Thank you for letting me borrow you for a moment.”

“Then what was the power source?” Din said. “Where did that feeling come from?”

“Well, that’s a good question,” Luke said.

The gravity simulator came back on at that moment, sending Din and Luke straight to the floor. Din groaned loudly as Luke sputtered in surprise, scrambling up from his position on the floor. From somewhere else in the ship, Din heard Cobb cursing loudly.

“You couldn’t have warned us?” Din groused.

“Let me get my thrills in where I can,” Fennec responded. “Besides, I thought Skywalker might keep you afloat.”

“I was relying on the lack of gravity for that,” Luke grumbled. “A heads-up would’ve been great.”

“Ah, well,” Fennec shrugged. “I’ll do it again, probably.”

“Our new flight path has us still set for Vandor in a couple of hours. Does that ruin your plans any?” asked Bo-Katan. The ship’s computer announced the resumption of the autopilot function, allowing her to step away from the controls.

“I think we can spare some time, let the engines cool off,” Luke replied.

“Vandor’s an ice planet,” Bo-Katan said, pulling it up on the navigation computer. “There used to be an old Imperial fuel refinery there, but nothing else of note. I guess it’ll help cool off the engines. I’m going to go check on the engines since I’m already up.”

“Thank you for taking over the controls, Bo-Katan,” Luke said. “We’re lucky to have you.”

“Thank you for saving our skins, Luke,” Bo-Katan said, placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder as she passed him. “I don’t even think Obi-Wan Kenobi could’ve pulled that off.”

“You knew Master Kenobi?” Luke asked.

Bo-Katan stopped in her tracks, turning to give Luke a small, soft smile. “I did,” she answered. “Remind me to tell you what I know about him.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Luke said, returning the smile.

Listening to their conversation made Din remember what he promised Obi-Wan, himself. Din knew he needed to tell Luke about his conversation with Obi-Wan — now, after learning Ibis can connect him with Luke, he couldn’t keep these talks a secret forever. They’d talk about it when the ship landed, he promised himself.

“You ready to get this ship landed?” Luke asked, turning back to Din.

“Thrilled about it,” Din groaned as he finally stood back up. “Let’s go check on the gunner’s nest.”

“Why?”

“…I have a bad feeling, I guess,” Din shrugged, heading towards the ladder. “Or maybe I feel bad. Either way.”

The Tantive IV landed in the snow softly, the shock of the landing gear hitting the ground barely registering in the bridge. Plumes of snow reached the windscreens in the ship’s wake as the engines powered down and the backup lights went on. Once the engine temperature gauges on the screens lowered, the bridge let out a collective sigh.

“I think that’s enough excitement for today,” said Luke as he powered down the screen and started the engine shutdown routine. “I think we’ll be fine in a few hours, but we’ll wait for another twelve hours standard just to be sure. What say you all to some rest and relaxation?”

Cobb hardly waited for Luke to say anything before ambling his way off the bridge. “I need a nap,” he mumbled.

“What if another horrifying creature bursts out from yet another interdimensional crack?” asked Fennec.

He paused to consider the question. “No, I’d rather not worry about it,” said Cobb.

“Agreed. If I have to die at the hands of a cosmic horror, I’d rather not experience the ‘horror’ part,” said Paz. “Just let me die.”

“Reasonable,” Boba said, a hint of a smile crossing his face. “Your shift’s over, anyway. Fennec and I have the bridge.”

“I’ll go check the engines again,” Bo-Katan volunteered. “You have pit droids on board, right? Might need their help with any coolant loss we suffered.”

“Yeah, take ‘em; they hang out in the galley,” Boba said.

“You need anything else up here?” asked Luke.

“No, go get some rest,” Boba answered, waving him off. “Think you earned your keep for the day.”

“We’ll wake you up if there’s another potentially galaxy-ending emergency,” Fennec said.

With nothing left to do on the bridge, Din turned towards Luke and gave him a bit of a nod, gesturing for Luke to follow him. Wordlessly, Luke obeyed and followed him through the hallways, back up to the diplomatic quarters — a place Din knew they could have a private conversation. Din silently invited Luke in, watching him take a seat at the table in the reception area of the quarters.

“Is everything alright, Din?” Luke asked.

Din hummed as he sat down opposite from Luke at the table. “Yes, we’re fine,” he said, pausing to take off the helmet. He figured in moments like these, eye-to-eye contact would be best. “After all that, I guess I needed to come clean about something — not that I wanted to keep it from you, I just didn’t know how to tell you about it. I also didn’t want to share this around the rest of the crew.”

“What do you mean?” Luke pressed. “You know if it’s something about your past, I understand completely — if you can overlook my father’s crimes, there’s nothing you need to explain to me.”

“No, nothing like that,” Din said, shaking his head.

“Sorry, continue,” said Luke.

“I just… today, when we connected through the Force with your convor — that wasn’t the first time I’ve done something like that.” Din exhaled at last. It felt good to get that off his chest.

Luke’s brows furrowed. “It wasn’t? How so?”

“I don’t know how to explain this without sounding insane — and maybe that’s why I’ve been so hesitant to tell you this — but Ibis connects me to ghosts,” Din continued. “Ghosts that know you, I think? Ghosts that know about our mission, for sure. This is the first time Ibis connected me to a living person.”

Luke didn’t respond for a good amount of time, choosing to stare past Din, instead. Din buried his face in his hands, resisting the urge to run out of his own room.

“Master, why didn’t you tell me?” Luke asked. “You didn’t need to bother him directly.”

Din looked up and saw Luke looking at someone, but when he looked behind him, there was nothing but a wall. Obi-Wan must be in the room with them, he figured.

“I mean, of course I wanted to train him,” Luke continued, “we just haven’t had much time, with the absolutely unreasonable pace you’ve put us on. I didn’t know convorees could give a non-Force sensitive Force ability.”

“Can I move things with my mind if Ibis is on my shoulder?” Din interrupted.

“If you want to knock the poor little thing out, probably,” Luke said before turning his attention back to the area above Din’s head. “I’ll take care of it, Master. Thank you.”

Din looked around again, waiting for something else strange to happen. “Is Kenobi gone?”

“He is,” Luke said. “I know you couldn’t hear him just now, but Master Kenobi is right — we’re going to have to talk about your sword. He apologized for putting you in such an awkward position.”

“Ah,” Din replied. “Well, I appreciate it — unnecessary as it is. I’m glad I’m not going crazy.”

Luke smiled, reaching over to place his hand over Din’s own. “You’re not going crazy. You can tell me anything, you know — I won’t judge you.”

“I… thank you, Luke,” Din said. “Especially after what happened on the bridge, I felt like you deserved to know.”

“It’s fine — I don’t feel like you kept a big secret from me,” Luke said. “But if it makes you feel any better, we’ve found a new way to communicate that doesn’t involve commlinks — that’s something useful!”

He still had no idea how to talk to Luke about his conversations with Anakin, but he figured that was a discussion for another day. Luke could yell at him all he wanted later.

“That’s one way of looking at it. What did Kenobi tell you about what he told me?”

“You talked about the Darksaber — especially that you heard voices after using it?” Luke asked. “What kind of voices?”

“It was… it was like a chorus, I think,” Din said. “They asked me why I wanted the Darksaber, why I wanted to be Mand’alor — I guess it was a test. I don’t know where the voices came from, but Kenobi thinks it might be from the sword itself. He says the crystals inside are living beings, which… if what you thought about that creature coming for the sword is true, then it makes sense the sword is alive.”

Luke hummed thoughtfully. “Din, would you humor me for a little bit?” he asked. “We really haven’t had time to do this before, but since we’re going to be here for a little while, would you like to try and learn how to use the Darksaber?”

Din pulled the Darksaber’s hilt off his belt and held it in his hands. It made perfect sense, having a master of the craft teach him — he wondered why he hadn’t asked before. He didn’t think anyone could make the damn thing less heavy, and he wasn’t sure if it even made sense to try. He figured it was always just that way.

“I guess I might need it,” said Din. “I suppose you don’t mean to train me in here.”

Luke smiled. “No, not at all,” he said. “We’ll do this after the rest cycle, outside of the ship so nothing gets damaged. Get some sleep, Din. You’ll need it tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Din said, watching as Luke stood up to leave. “And Luke?”

“Hm?”

“Are you getting any sleep?” Din asked, unsure of how to ask the question in any other way. “I heard what Cobb said to you earlier. If you’re not sleeping at night, you can come talk to me about it. You can… you can also tell me anything.”

Luke quirked up an eyebrow. “Oh, that? I get sleepless, but I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Nonsense,” Din said. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

“You’re very kind,” Luke said. He stood up and moved towards the door, giving Din a gentle bow of his head. “Unless there’s anything you require of me, I’ll see you in a few hours. Good night, Din.”

Din thought about letting Luke go, letting him walk out without a single word, maybe a mumbled ‘good night’ in return, but neither of those options sat right with him. He stood up from the table and crossed the short distance to the door, meeting Luke at the door jamb.

“I do still require something of you,” Din said.

“All you need to do is ask.”

“Let someone fuss after you — for once,” Din said as he placed his hand on Luke’s shoulder. “It’s alright to need someone, you know?”

“I— well,” Luke mumbled. His eyes cast themselves down, avoiding Din’s gaze directly. “It’s so stupid — it’s so far from being your problem but— “

“It’s not stupid if it’s keeping you up at night,” said Din. “Please.”

“Sometimes the Force keeps me from sleeping,” Luke said. “The whispers, the voices, the visions — it’s not conducive to getting any real rest. I can handle it most times, but maybe with that creature on its way, I got too much interference and it’s been too hard to—“

“That’s easy,” Din interrupted, walking over to the table and snatching up his helmet. “Use my helmet for the night. You can sleep in my bed, too. I think it’s the most comfortable one on the ship.”

Luke just stared at him, blinking rapidly.

“Without me in it!” Din corrected. “I mean, I can take your quarters for the night. Take my bed, sleep in my helmet. You said it cuts you off from the Force, so sleep in it. Just for tonight.”

“Din, that’s so much,” Luke said, his lips forming themselves into that damned soft pout of his. “I couldn’t do that to you.”

“You’re not doing anything to me,” Din replied. “I’m offering you some relief. Please, get some rest. I promise, you’re not imposing on me.”

“Well, I don’t love the solution but it would cut me off from the Force for a bit,” Luke mumbled. After a beat, Luke’s eyes finally met Din’s own. “How did you manage to turn a conversation about you needing help into you helping me?”

“I’m a father,” Din shrugged. “Comes naturally.”

Din wasn’t sure if he bought his own lie, but it would have to do for now.

“But I — “

“But nothing,” Din said as he lifted the helmet over Luke’s head and lowered it slowly. “Consider this a favor to me. My bed’s just through that doorway over there,” he continued as he took Luke by the shoulders and guided him towards Din’s sleeping quarters. “Good night.”

Luke, sufficiently swayed, sauntered towards the bed. “It’s just for tonight, then.”

“Just for tonight,” Din said. It was exceedingly strange to watch another man walk off with his face, his voice, but he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he might. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Luke mumbled, and with that, he disappeared beyond the partition.

Din left the quarters, feeling oddly satisfied. Maybe this was the answer to some of those stupid, deep-seated religious issues — if it wasn’t, he could at least feel like his attachment to his religion helped comfort someone else in their time of need.

Making his way towards the captain’s quarters located near the ship’s bridge, Din managed to slip into the door without anyone else in the crew noticing. He couldn’t imagine answering any questions about their sleeping arrangements for the night — he just wanted to crash.

Din took a look around the smaller quarters and took note of all the things he could about Luke from his sparse possessions. He had a fancy medal on the wall — probably from his time in the Rebellion, if Din had to guess — and a number of old books stacked onto a desk. Din couldn’t think about the last time he’d seen a book made of flimsi. Running his fingers over a cover, he flipped open the cover of the top one and noticed the Mando’a script. It looked like a fairly simple book, but the fact that Luke owned it, wanting to learn more about his people and their language, touched Din deeply. He closed it, but kept a very stupid smile on his face as he shuffled off to bed.

Settling into the mattress — which was not nearly as comfortable as his own, just as he guessed — Din turned his face into Luke’s pillow and tried to fall asleep. His mind drifted into thoughts of Luke sleeping in this bed. He then thought about the time Luke shared a bed with him back on Tatooine, and wondered if Luke ever thought about it, too. The sheets smelled faintly of detergent and the kind of body soap they kept stocked on the ship. Din never figured Luke for the sort of man to be precious about particular scents, so that tracked. He hoped Luke wasn’t too uncomfortable, trying to sleep in a strange place. Most importantly, he hoped his last minute, absolutely insane idea of trying to solve Luke’s problems helped.

Din finally fell asleep, hugging onto Luke’s spare pillow and imagining the better bed he gave up.

“Well, aren’t we waking up late!”

Din froze in the galley as Cobb sidled up to him at the galley counter, giving him the kind of look Din didn’t know how to decipher before having caf.

“What are you talking about?” asked Din.

“Well, it’s just a little later than I’m used to seeing you, is all,” Cobb said, a lecherous grin wide on his face. “I also couldn’t help but notice you left the captain’s quarters — you dog, you!”

“What are you going on about?”

“I mean, I guess a small brush of death, an encounter with a horrifying space squid — that’s liable to get anyone in the mood,” Cobb continued. “I’m happy for you both. Eases some of the tension around here. You two have my blessing to bone, especially if you keep as quiet as you did last night.”

If Din hadn’t been blushing before, he certainly was now. “I didn’t sleep with him!” he hissed. He almost broke the handle of the cup from his grip tightening on it.

“No?”

“No,” Din spat. “We traded rooms — I have a better bed, and he hasn’t been sleeping well. I also loaned him my helmet. It helps with the f*cked-up things going on in his head.”

“Oh,” Cobb said, his head tilting up in understanding. A look of concern crossed Cobb’s face. “Wondered why I hadn’t seen him yet,” he said, brushing a hand over his beard. “Sorry for the misunderstanding, then.”

“My heart can’t take that kind of crassness in the morning,” Din mumbled into his caf. “Thank you for the apology.”

Cobb held up his hands defensively. “I’ll try to keep the rude sh*t only during business hours, then.”

Rolling his eyes, Din turned fully towards Cobb. “You said before you’d noticed Luke not sleeping before. How long has that been going on?”

“He’s normally the last to go to bed, the first to rise. I usually see him pacing around whenever I get up to grab a glass of water. Weird stuff,” Cobb said. “It’s only been the last week or so, but I didn’t feel it right to interfere.”

Din’s teeth worried at his bottom lip.

“Is he alright, sleeping this long? I mean, I didn’t think anything of it because I thought he was with you but—“

Din set down his cup on the counter and stormed off. “I’m going to go check on him.”

“Good luck, boss man,” Cobb said, waving him off.

Not bothering to knock on the door, Din entered his own quarters and made directly for his bed. There, he found Luke buried in his sheets, helmet still over his head, softly snoring through the modulator. Din sighed in relief.

Din moved to the bed and sat down gently on the edge, shaking Luke awake. A startled snort came through the modulator and Luke pulled Din’s helmet off his head.

“Oh gods,” Luke said as he emerged from the helmet, his hair sticking up every which way but straight on his head. “Where am I?”

Din couldn’t help but find it cute.

“You’re in my bed,” Din said, a playful grin toying with the sides of his mouth. “You were out for about ten hours.”

“f*ck,” Luke groaned. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be out that long.”

“Don’t apologize,” Din tutted. He felt rather pleased with himself, all things considered. “You needed the rest, clearly.”

“I probably drooled in there,” Luke said as he sat up on the bed, his undershirt rucked up his torso. “I can clean it out, or something. I’m sorry.”

Din grimaced. “It’s not the worst thing to ever happen in that thing. Lots of blood’s been cleaned out of there.”

“Is that how you got that scar across your nose?” Luke asked, his eyes bleary. He reached out a finger and brushed the tip of it across the thin pink line spanning the bridge of Din’s nose.

“Y-yes,” Din stuttered.

When was the last time anyone touched his face like this, other than his own child? He didn’t mind it, though — not at all.

“sh*t,” Luke cursed, his hand recoiling. “Gods, I have no boundaries right now. I’m so sorry. I’m just going to —” Luke leaned over and tried to will himself out of the bed. “I’m going to go back to my own quarters. Stop myself from invading people’s private spaces and embarrassing myself.”

“You’re fine, Luke,” chided Din. “Please, get some more rest. You’re still tired.”

Luke frowned deeply. “We need to train.”

“I think I can convince the rest of the crew that we need to be here for a little while longer,” Din said as he stood up. “Can’t imagine anyone complaining.”

Flopping back down onto the bed and nestling into Din’s pillows, Luke fought his body to stay awake. “Are you sure? I can still try.”

“I’m sure,” Din answered. “I’ll see you in a few more hours.”

Before Din could say anything else, Luke quickly fell back asleep — this time, without Din’s helmet. He silently picked it up from the bed and moved it to a bedside table, letting it air out. He’d figure out the damage done later; he’d let Luke rest for now. He was just happy his idea worked out.

Din and Luke left the rest of the crew onboard the ship to train outside. They used the magcon field out of the back of the ship, keeping the rest of the ship warm as they exited the ship and out into the blustery, wild winds of Vandor.

They hiked up a nearby hill, the planet’s sun setting as Din trailed behind Luke — neither saying a word to each other as they drove themselves up an ancient-looking trail. They eventually reached the top of the trail, an area covered in large boulders and smaller rocks. As Din wandered around the area, he looked over the tallest boulder and reeled back as he saw the sheer drop of a cliff below.

“A little startling, I know — I just wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be bothered,” Luke said behind Din.

“I think you did a fine job of that,” Din said, backing away from the edge.

“Thank you,” Luke said as he hopped off the tallest boulder and stood on top of a lower, flatter one nearest the ground.

“So, what are the first steps?” asked Din as he kicked a rock off the edge of the cliff. “Is there a formal sword fighting style we’re using, or is it more of a general technique?”

“Will you take a seat?” Luke replied, gesturing towards the other end of the flat rock. “I have a lesson it seems only I can teach you. If you’re to learn anything about this sword, it won’t be from practicing katas and stances.”

Din exhaled harshly, amused. Yet, he decided to humor Luke and took a seat, removing his helmet and placing it to the side. Luke did the same, sitting facing Din. Din followed Luke’s example and crossed his legs, with both their knees touching.

“So, Master Skywalker, what wisdom do you impart today?” Din asked as he straightened out his posture. Luke rolled his eyes, and Din couldn’t help but chuckle — he wondered just how often he could keep up their strange little roleplay.

Once Din’s laughter faded away, Luke simply sat there for a moment, staring directly through Din’s visor and into his eyes. “I’m going to share a secret with you that I believe you’re ready to receive.”

“Was I not ready before?”

Luke shook his head. “It isn’t an easy truth to grasp, and while I think you’re capable of a great many things, I think you needed time to grow into it.”

Din wasn’t sure to make of that information, but he supposed he’d learn what Luke meant soon enough.

“To put it simply, you need to learn how to understand to want things, to seize the world with violence,” Luke said, as plainly as commenting on the snow in the air or the harsh, ragged wind tearing at their clothes.

Din’s brows furrowed. “I make my living through violence. I don’t understand.”

“I do not mean inflicting harm — I have nothing to teach you on that front,” Luke said. “Understand this: the Darksaber is not a weapon.”

“What do you mean, ‘the Darksaber is not a weapon’?” asked Din.

Luke let his shoulders drop. “The truth is, the only weapon in the world is desire. When you learn to enjoy the act of wielding your will, nothing can stop you — no beskar, no army, no one person.”

“Isn’t that against the Jedi teachings? Do you not believe in unconditional love, balance, unity?”

“Are you a Jedi?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then questions of morality should not concern you,” Luke said. “That is a question for priests, not kings. The question I want you to ask yourself is, ‘do I think this sword actually exists?’”

Perhaps Luke was right — he wasn’t ready for this lesson.

“Well, I can feel it in my hands,” Din began, taking the hilt from his belt. He ignited the sword and, just as quickly, extinguished the flame. “When I engage it, it emits plasma and heat capable of hurting other physical objects. I know its weight on my belt, its feel in my hands. I can hear it in my head sometimes.”

He paused.

“I think it’s real, anyway.”

Was that the right answer? Was there some sort of metaphysical, ontological answer Luke wanted?

The very idea that he remembered that word made him preen just a little.

Luke held out his hand silently, beckoning for Din to hand him the Darksaber. As Din reached forward to hand Luke the hilt, he felt it fly from his hands and halt in the space between them. It hovered as if the wind that cut through the spaces in Din’s armor didn’t exist.

Slowly, the pins that held the hilt drove themselves out of their joints. The plates of the hilt came apart along with the handguard, and the inner parts of the Darksaber broke away until its center shone through the debris. The core, a jagged sort of ink-black crystal that bore no resemblance to anything Din had ever seen, thrummed heavy with sheer power that he needed no Force sensitivity to feel. A strange, soft glow surrounded the crystal not unlike that which emanated from the Darksaber’s blade, pulsing steadily. The sword’s hardware floated around its core in a lazy circle, almost as though it still yearned to protect its heart.

“This is a kyber crystal,” said Din. “Just like Kenobi mentioned.”

“Yes, it is,” Luke replied. “This is the heart of every Jedi warrior’s blade. They have souls — they yearn, they cry out, they want. This one calls out for you.”

A soft voice began ringing in his ear.

Our king! Hail, our Once and Future King! Hear us! Know us!

“Do you hear them?” asked Luke. “As I said before, this crystal is quite powerful — harvested many generations ago, with many wielders since. Both Jedi and Mandalorians alike. For thousands of years, Jedi would travel to Ilum, a planet in the Unknown Regions, to harvest the crystal that called for them. There’s much knowledge lost to time about their nature, but from what I can see, the older the crystal —“

“The deeper the feelings run,” Din finished. “The stronger the feelings become.”

See us! Feel us! Our lost king, returned to us!

“Yes,” Luke said. “So, the Darksaber is not a weapon. It is alive, the same as you and I. It is a tool, a soul that wants to align with yours. The sword doesn’t exist, but its heart does. A heart that wants.”

Wield us! Join with us! Son of Mandalore, son of Dragons, son of War!

“I —“ Din began, the sound of the Darksaber’s crystal drowning out his own thoughts. “It keeps shouting at me.”

“What is it that you hear?”

“It keeps calling me the thing that you — or the Force — called me when we met,” Din said. “’The once and future king’. What does that mean?”

Luke shook his head. “That, I don’t know. As far as either of us know, you’ve never been the King of Mandalore before. I suppose we’ll find out when the time is right.”

Listen to the hymns of war as they sing in time with your heart!

“It won’t stop,” Din said, doing his best to drown the choir of voices out of his mind. “Just keeps going on about going to war.”

A soft, oddly knowing smile finally cracked Luke’s serene affect. “That’s because the Darksaber knows what it wants. I’ve shown you its heart so you understand what it is to truly want. When you learn to wield your desire like this blade, you will change the future. You came on this quest because you saw the consequences of your inaction — but this is no longer enough. Wanting something not to happen is only half of it, wanting something to happen is the rest.”

Din felt his lip curl up in disgust, remembering Anakin’s words. He let the thought go, however; this had nothing to do with Luke’s father.

Luke waved his hand through the air and, without any resistance, the Darksaber reassembled itself. Its eerie heart settled back into its hilt, and with it, the voices that rang through Din’s head went silent.

“Tell me, what did you think about in your fight with Paz Vizsla? What made that sword lighter, easier to swing?” asked Luke as he handed Din back the sword, pommel first.

Thinking about you. Thinking about home. “I thought about ending the fight as soon as possible. I didn’t want to fight my own brother.”

Slowly, and then all at once, Din felt that crackle of electric stillness dance across the exposed skin of his face and throughout the sharp winter air.

“…No, not now,” Luke pleaded, his voice growing weak and thready as he clutched at his chest. “Please.”

Din kneeled forward and cradled Luke’s face in his hands. “Luke, are you alright?”

“You are a terrible liar, Din Djarin,” Luke said as his voice split into two. Din knew that sound all too well — it still haunted his dreams.

“Luke, what are you talking about?”

Luke’s eyes fell shut as he took in a shuddering, ragged breath. One moment, Luke’s eyes looked at him with pain and panic, and the next they shot open into that same eerie, glowing blue once again, his pupils and irises subsumed into the light. He reached a hand out to grasp Luke’s knee, to shake him back into reality, but it didn’t matter. Luke wasn’t there to notice.

“Who are you?” Din growled, his grasp on Luke’s knee tightening. “You can’t keep doing this to him!”

Something pulled Din’s hand away from Luke’s body. “Impertinent whelp that you are, Din Djarin,” spoke the voice inhabiting Luke’s body. “There is nothing I need explain to you about This One.”

“You showed up uninvited, you’ll answer my questions,” Din spat. “Are you supposed to be the Force?”

“I am They who are called Life, the Totality of Creation, of Suns and Earths Alike,” spoke both Luke’s and the other’s voice. “I am the Holder of the Celestial Keys, That which Flows Through and Binds All, That which Was and Always Will Be. My Name cannot be uttered by your primitive tongue, your mind cannot comprehend its mysteries. To wit, yes, This One is the Living Force.”

Din inhaled deeply, holding the breath in his chest to the point of pain before exhaling. He often joked to himself about what he might do should he ever meet God, but he never knew that day would come while he still had flesh. He had no idea what to do, how to proceed — he could only think to do one thing.

“Why Luke?” asked Din.

“He is This One’s grandchild, the greatest achievement borne of This One’s interference in your kind’s affairs,” the voice answered. “His father was This One’s most abject failure, but Luke Skywalker proved to be greater than the sum of his parts. He is This One’s perfect vessel, This One’s love for all of you made flesh.”

The revelation shocked him, and yet, it didn’t. Why wouldn’t it make sense that Luke’s ancestor was a literal deity?

Did Luke know this already? Was this something Anakin hid from him?

Din, blinking against the biting wind, felt his eyes sting. “When you do this, you’re hurting him — he can hardly stand or fend for himself. If he’s your grandson, why do you tear him apart like this?”

“Why does it matter to you, Din Djarin?” asked the voice, tilting Luke’s head as if to punctuate the question. “What does a Mandalorian king have need to care for this young man so? You lied to him.”

He felt the wind leave his chest, the realization hitting him at full speed — that was why the Force came here. He lied to Luke.

“I lied to protect him,” Din spat back. “I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“Insipid child,” the voice growled. “You protect only yourself. You care for nothing but your own comfort, turning away from your destiny because you do not Want.”

Din snarled. “I want plenty of things! I want you to leave, I want you to never use Luke’s body again!”

“What is it that you truly Want, Din Djarin, Son of Mandalore?” the voice repeated, the wind building up speed. “Answer me.”

Something within Din shifted, something resonated into the very core of him as he came to a realization.

He didn’t need to want anything ambitious, anything so grand as ruling a planet or achieving total victory. He just wanted a home.

Understanding what it meant to want something, to fully comprehend a truth, Din reached for his helmet still laying on the ground and placed it back on his head. He felt a little foolish, trying to deny it — but now that it really mattered, it was the only thing that could matter. The comfort of his helmet against the elements gave him focus as the truth settled in his body and made itself a home there, warm and resolute.

“I want Luke Skywalker,” Din said, a gentle smile curling up the edges of his mouth. “I want what he wants, I want to live in his heart — the same as he lives in mine. I want to get through this battle and leave all this behind and keep him safe. I want to give him a home, at last. He deserves it.”

”Why?”

”Because I love him,” Din answered.

Luke’s body rose to standing, yet his feet no longer touched the rock. Scrambling from his seat on the rock and into a standing position, he could feel the fear and anger surging through his veins intoxicating. Din watched as Luke remained floating just so above the ground, his eyes alight with cold fire.

“What will you do, Din Djarin, to get what you Want?”

“I will do whatever it takes to make him happy, to free him of you,” Din declared. “I will take back my planet, conquer any enemy, set the Empire aflame to keep him safe.”

“Anything, you say?”

Without much thought, Din reached for the Darksaber and ignited it, the strange glow illuminating the snow despite the moonlight. “Anything.”

“You would dare defy a god?” the Living Force asked, amused.

“Without question,” Din said, as sure as he could be of anything. “Death wouldn’t be able to keep me from him.” He paused to swing the Darksaber in a fluid arc, his right foot sliding back into a familiar stance as he felt the energy radiate through his body in pure waves of power. His body felt light, his sword weighed nothing, yet his mind remained sharp. As Din looked towards Luke’s body, he felt as though he could see beyond him, out into the stars, and into his own purpose.

“Would you like to test this theory?” the Force asked.

“You may try, and you will fail.”

The Living Force scoffed. “And do you think your will greater than that of mine own?”

Din swung his sword high above his head, then turned his grip over and drove the point of the Darksaber down into rock below his feet, the blade singing its paean cry through the night air as the molten rock bubbled and hissed. He let the sword go, allowing it to remain in the stone and burn through its resting place.

“This is my resolve, the strength of my convictions, planted here,” he said. “This is the fixed point around which the rest of the galaxy turns. I will not be moved — you will.”

Luke’s hands began to clap, a vicious grin splitting his face. The Living Force laughed, too mirthful to be truly cruel, but mocking, nonetheless. “Glorious! Beautiful! A mastery of Desire! Truly, my wisdom knows no bounds.”

Inhaling deeply, Din took his time and refused to let his emotions get the better of him. “Thank you for the lesson.” He reached forward and took the hilt of the Darksaber in hand, disengaging the blade and returning it to his belt.

“Do not squander the wisdom This One granted you,” the Living Force said. “You must strive to become that which you were born to be — a king that owns the present and the future, a king that sees the other side.”

“And how do I see to the other side?”

“You will cut your way through,” said the Living Force. “Cut until there is nothing left. Tear the Galaxy apart to get there.”

As quickly as it came, the light left Luke’s eyes and his body drifted back towards the ground. This time, however, Din caught him before he could collapse. He wondered if Luke heard him — if he understood Din, at last. The feeling scared Din as much as anything else he’d ever encountered, but he didn’t care. Fear was just information. The truth of the love threatening to spill out of him was the only thing that mattered. He embraced it with everything he had.

Holding Luke in his arms and taking in the way Luke’s face looked at that moment, cheeks flushed with the cold and snowflakes dusting his eyelids, Din thought he could never love anyone the way he loved Luke in that moment.

How beautiful, how wonderful was life to give him this chance?

“Hey, Luke,” Din whispered, brushing his fingers against the hair covering Luke’s face. “Welcome back to the land of the living. How are you feeling?”

Luke didn’t respond.

“Luke?” Din asked, his voice rising. “Luke, wake up.”

Luke’s eyes remained closed, his face serene as the wind bit at the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Din felt panic rise in his chest — the Living Force’s possession didn’t knock Luke out cold before, so why should it now?

“Luke, please,” Din said, gently shaking the body resting in his arms. “Don’t do this now. Please wake up.”

Still, Luke did not stir an inch.

Pulling Luke’s body into his chest, Din kept Luke close to the warming plates in his armor and hoped it would be enough to keep him comfortable until he came to.

The wind beat against his armor, but Din didn’t mind. The frost tried to bite at the smallest sliver of skin under his chin, but Din hardly felt it. Luke weighed nothing as Din marched them both back to the ship. All that mattered was getting him warm and safe.

“Stay with me,” Din whispered to Luke’s unconscious form. “Just hang on, Luke — I’ve got you.”

Powering on his Rising Phoenix, Din raced them both back to their ship at the bottom of the hill. He prayed to whatever other god out there was listening that Luke would wake up and everything would be alright.

Chapter 9: Gawain

Chapter Text

Din came to a sudden realization of his own presence, like a switch flipped in his brain. For the past — well, however long — he didn’t feel real. His entire existence narrowed down into a fine point, the last bit of time since Luke collapsed leaving his mind utterly numb, almost as though he were walking along the bottom of an ocean. Light barely reached him, sound even less so.

He remembered laying Luke down on the cot — before that, their crewmates rushing in after seeing Din haul Luke’s unconscious body through the magcon gate on the security cameras, offering their help. Din didn’t know how to respond to any of them. Some medical droid quickly rushed in to hook Luke up to all the monitors possible, scanned him, but could find nothing wrong.

“The patient presents no significant illness or injury,” the droid said. “He needs rest. I will hook him up to some oxygen to facilitate his recovery, but for now, he will be fine. Prognosis of full recovery rests at 99.7% likely.”

Fine.

Fine.

Fine.

Din wanted to scream, yell, rage — if Luke was fine, why wasn’t he awake? Why wasn’t Luke looking at him? What the f*ck did a droid know about caring for humans? Why the f*ck was he letting this droid touch Luke?

These were all things he thought, but couldn’t bring himself to say. Even his seething rage couldn’t cut through the invisible barrier existing between himself and the rest of the world.

With hardly any argument, someone guided Din into a chair near Luke’s bed and left him alone. He sat there for an untold amount of time, in complete silence, as he pondered what just happened. He went through several iterations of blame: blaming the Living Force for using Luke as a puppet, blaming himself for lying, and blaming the goddamn galaxy for allowing any of this to happen in the first place.

For Luke’s part, he looked about as serene as Din had ever seen him. The medical droid hooked him up to a few external monitors, but aside from that, Luke had no outward physical injuries. That gave Din a small measure of relief — even if he wasn’t sure when Luke would wake back up, at least he wasn’t in pain.

As the moments wiled by, Din could only stare at Luke and try to will him back to consciousness. Din thought it was funny, the way that he finally noticed some of the smaller details that made up the total picture of Luke Skywalker as a man. He wondered if he never noticed the small scar that cut through the edge of Luke’s upper lip because Luke never stopped talking. Luke had the tiniest moles on his face, no doubt from years of sun exposure. With his face completely relaxed, Luke looked both worn out and years younger than he usually did. On Luke’s upper arms, Din noticed dozens of little scars crisscrossing themselves across his skin — not unlike Din’s own healed injuries. He couldn’t help but reach out and run his fingertips across a particularly gnarled one and wondered what sort of story lay behind that one. How did the skin mend in such an odd way? Was it from an Imperial blaster, a fell beast on some backwater moon, or a starfighter crash he barely managed to walk away from?

With Luke Skywalker, anything could’ve been possible.

Din’s heart ached. He wanted to ask Luke about everything that crossed his mind and then some. Even if he never wanted to answer a single question Din had, Din would settle for just hearing his voice again. Logically, Din knew Luke should be back amongst the living any moment now, but that didn’t stop the irrational, ugly fear of losing Luke to the Living Force from rearing its head.

Perhaps it was the strange antiseptic smell of the medbay, or the steady beeping of the vital monitors, but the oddly sterile environment lulled Din straight into a low stupor. Time didn’t really matter here. It wouldn’t until Luke woke back up.

If this is what love meant, Din decided he really wasn’t sure if he wanted any of it.

A metallic scraping sound — the rings of the curtain sliding along the tracks — announced the arrival of a visitor in the bay. Din sat up.

“How are you holding up, Djarin?”

Din looked up towards the opening in the curtain surrounding Luke’s bed and found Bo-Katan standing there. The concern on her face told a different story than the steady measure of her voice. After a beat, he figured her reaction made sense — he wasn’t the only one that cared about Luke. In a weird way, Din liked that. Luke deserved affection from everyone and everything, all the time. On the other hand, the tiniest part of him felt nearly aggrieved, but Din saw it for what it was: guilt.

What good was being king of anything if he couldn’t protect this one man?

“I’m still here,” Din said after realizing Bo-Katan expected an answer to her question.

She only hummed as she found another seat and sat on Luke’s other side, across from Din. They sat together like that for a while, both of them staring at Luke’s sleeping face as though the combined power of their stares could wake Luke up and everything could go back to normal.

Din found it strange, thinking that he looked forward to the horribly awkward moment when he would have to finally face the consequences of his actions. The alternative wasn’t worth thinking about.

“May I ask what happened, now that we have him comfortable?” asked Bo-Katan.

Din couldn’t help the scowl that flashed across his face.

“I don’t mean to pick or pry,” she said. “I just wanted to know. It’s hard to imagine someone like him just slipping into unconsciousness. I don’t blame you.”

“You should.”

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow at that. “No offense meant, but I don’t think you’re the guy that’s putting a Jedi out on his ass like this.”

“It wasn’t—!” Din groaned. “It wasn’t that. We never sparred. I just.”

Bo-Katan waited, in that regal, condescending way reminiscent of her days leading Mandalorian troops with ease. It was something Din could maybe find admirable, if he wasn’t on the receiving end of it.

“It’s hard to explain,” Din continued. “It’s a bunch of magic that I don’t fully understand. At one point, Luke asked me a question that I felt was too personal to answer, so I evaded it.”

“You lied.”

“I wasn’t fully truthful,” Din corrected. “And somehow, that summoned the Living Force.”

Bo-Katan nodded. “Is this the same way you received that vision, sending us all to our possible doom?”

Din swallowed. “Yes. The embodiment of the Living Force… just took Luke’s body over. Possessed him. This was apparently a huge strain on his body, and when the Force left him, Luke fell asleep and wouldn’t respond to any attempts to wake him up. Now we’re here.”

“And by ‘Living Force’, you mean like…?”

“Like a god,” Din finished for her. “A deity inhabited his body. The deity, perhaps. Glowing eyes, floating body, double-voice — like something out of a horror story we’d hear around the campfires in the Fighting Corps.”

“Ah.”

“I told you this would be hard to explain,” Din said.

“It’s a lot, I won’t lie. Not wholly implausible, though,” Bo-Katan agreed. “So, if I may ask: why Luke?”

“Apparently, Luke is the grandson of the Force,” said Din as he ran a gloved hand over his face. He felt ridiculous saying anything like this aloud. “He may be the only human alive that could withstand the power of a literal deity.”

Bo-Katan sat with Din’s statement for a moment before finally replying, “I suppose that explains much about his father, then.”

Din, having only met Luke’s father long after he died, could neither agree nor disagree.

“Did Luke react this way the first time you met?” Bo-Katan asked.

“Not this bad,” answered Din. “He was out of it, shaking and dehydrated. He didn’t lose consciousness.”

She hummed in response. “I’m certainly no expert on the Force, but I know soldiers. I think the enormous amount of pressure he’s been under, along with the incident with the giant interdimensional monster and hosting a living deity in his body, might’ve been a much heavier strain on his body than Luke could’ve anticipated. He overdid it.”

“You think so?”

Bo-Katan reached a hand over to Luke’s own, grasping his stilled fingers with her own and giving them a gentle squeeze. “With his abilities, he might’ve gone on forever without us ever knowing he was experiencing fatigue. He doesn’t strike me as the type to complain, either. He might be something special, but he’s just a man at the end of the day.”

Despite knowing she had little magical insight, Din felt as though Bo-Katan’s logic made sense.

“Guess you might be right,” Din conceded.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Bo-Katan said as she stood up from her seat. “If torturing yourself over possibly being responsible for Luke’s health worked, he’d be awake right now.”

Din hummed noncommittally.

“He’s also a grown man,” she continued. “No matter what you’d like to do or say, Luke’s going to make choices about his health and well-being that… well, frankly, make no sense. Even as hard as he pushes himself, Luke still can’t anticipate everything that could possibly happen. All we can do is support Luke when he’s down — like he’s done for us when we needed him.”

“I know.”

“He’s a soldier, besides — he’s been through worse, probably.”

“Did you know his right hand’s a cybernetic replacement?” Din asked.

“No sh*t,” said Bo-Katan, looking down at his right hand, looking for a tell-tale sign of a synth skin replacement. “How did a guy like this lose a hand?”

“Darth Vader.”

“…ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m going to get out of here before I have yet another realization that I acted like an utter monster,” Bo-Katan said as she stood up from her seat. “Luke deserves some rest, and so do you.”

Din looked up at that. “Hey, that reminds me of something.”

“Yes?”

“That headpiece you wear — what is that, exactly?” Din asked. “It’s not standard kit in the Covert as far as I know.”

Bo-Katan ran a finger up to the beskar band holding back her hair. “This is a multi-tool — communications device, tracker, biometrics monitor, and so on. It’s also made of beskar, so if anyone tries to strike me while my helmet’s off, I might have a small chance of walking away.”

“I need something like that,” Din said.

“No offense, but I don’t think you have the hair style to pull it off,” she retorted.

“Not for me,” Din scoffed. “For him — he said beskar helps him get to sleep when the Force is too much for him. I let him sleep with my helmet last night, and he seemed to feel better.”

“You let him wear your helmet?” Bo-Katan lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow up at him. “Din Djarin, if it wasn’t you we were talking about, I’d say you were trying to propose marriage to this man here.”

Din felt all the color blanch right out of his face. How many f*cking times was he going to accidentally declare his love for this man in some esoteric Mandalorian fashion that even he didn’t know about?

He wondered if perhaps that said more about Mandalorian culture than it did his own failings.

“But since I know that it’s you we’re talking about, you did that as a kind gesture,” she continued. “An insanely intimate and profound gesture, but kind all the same. I’ll see what I can find in my things — I might have a spare, but it’ll need some work. Give me a day.”

Din tried to thank her, but he couldn’t find the words as she left Din alone with Luke’s sleeping form, the curtains pulled back around their area.

With the scant space left between Luke’s body and the edge of the gurney, Din settled his upper arms down on the mattress and sank the weight of his upper body down onto the bed, his head resting on top of his vambrace as he stared back up at Luke. Something in him felt it wrong, but the overwhelming desire to reach out to Luke won out and Din slid his fingers — gloves taken off the moment sometime after he set Luke down on the medbay bed — between Luke’s own. Maybe Luke could feel him in the Force, like he did earlier when they stood together on the bridge, holding onto each other and looking out into the void.

“I’m sorry if this is forward of me. I seem to constantly be in your space,” Din whispered to Luke’s sleeping form. “I just didn’t want you to feel alone, is all. I’ll be here when you’re ready to come back, Luke.”

And before he could think about it, Din fell asleep to the steady sound of Luke’s heart beating over the monitor.

A crackle over the inner-helmet comms system broke Din out of a dead, dreamless state.

“Djarin, we’ve got a large ship — some sort of freighter, from what we can tell — heading straight towards us,” Boba’s voice said, the sound painful in the ear that the weight of Din’s head rested on.

Din slowly lifted his head off the surface of the gurney’s mattress and forced his eyes open. Through his visor, he could see Luke in the same position he’d left him in before he’d nodded off. He sighed.

“Do they look hostile?” asked Din, his throat raw from dehydration. “Might just be a patrol.”

“Nothing hostile yet,” Boba answered. “However, Valinor isn’t anywhere near a New Republic sector or any trade routes. My gut’s telling me something’s up.”

Din immediately sat up and shook himself awake. He looked down at his hand, fingers still intertwined with Luke’s, with neither of them having moved since Din fell asleep some hours ago. He wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep and wake up sometime later with Luke hovering over him, fussing at him for sleeping in this position, but duty called.

The joints in Din’s body protested when he finally moved himself out of Luke’s gentle grasp and away from the bed. He rolled his neck, felt the twinge accompanying the sudden pops of his vertebrae realigning themselves, and stood up. Forcing himself not to take another look back, with every step out of Luke’s immediate reach as agonizing as possible, Din left Luke’s bedside and headed out of the medbay.

As he took off towards the bridge, Din sent out a prayer to whatever entity listening in that moment would make this ordeal quick.

Moments later, Din found himself standing in the middle of the bridge and watching the HUD display of the craft radar pop up on the main viewport. There, plain as anything, were the pixelated outlines of incoming craft — the Tantive IV’s advanced imaging produced an outline of the ship, but scant else information.

As he stared at the ever-shifting symbols on the screen, Din realized that his brain was struggling to synthesize the information. Luke could help him, if he were here, Din thought. This whole thing would probably be easier. They wouldn’t even be on Valinor, sitting here like sleeping massiffs.

Din knew he needed a hot cup of caf and ten more hours of sleep, at the minimum.

As if he could read Din’s mind, Boba stood up from his own chair and typed in something on one of the console’s input boards, bringing up a route overlay on the HUD. “We currently have the bogie heading directly towards our location, traveling at a high rate of speed. From their approach, we estimate they’ll be here within the next ten minutes.”

“Don’t really know my ships very well, but I can tell you that ain’t an X-Wing,” Cobb said. “I think we can assume they’re not cops.”

“How very astute,” Boba said.

Cobb nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“I tried hailing them, but received no answer,” Fennec said. “I suggest extreme caution — it’s not any sort of freighter associated with either the New Republic or the Empire, but there’s no telling who’s behind the controls.”

“They may not be either one,” Cobb interjected again. “Can’t count out the possibility they’re associated with any number of crime lords lurking out there. The various syndicates and gotras across the galaxy might take any number of odd routes to avoid the authorities. They may also have heard that you two were away from the flagpole, as it were,” he continued, pointing directly at Boba and Fennec. “Could be gunning for the title of Daimyo of Tatooine, for all we know.”

Din paused before turning back towards Cobb. “That’s… a solid point. Spice runners often run around in sh*tty-looking freighters. Blends in with other ships at any port, with room enough to smuggle goods and look legitimate.”

“What the f*ck?” Bo-Katan muttered. “Would it be easier to make a list of who isn’t our enemy at this point?”

Din wanted to reply with some witty retort, but nothing was coming to him and Bo-Katan had a point — they weren’t exactly making any friends on this trip, aside from those already on the bridge.

“We’ve got five minutes until they arrive,” Boba interrupted.

“Any possibility they’re just flying over?” asked Din.

“Unlikely,” Fennec answered. “Like Boba told you, this isn’t New Republic space and the fuel refinery that used to be here got cleaned out years ago — this place is just a cold wasteland, only a little more habitable than Hoth.”

Din fought back a groan. So badly did he want this to be someone else’s problem.

“And just to be sure — we can’t take off and perform any evasive maneuvers?” Din offered.

Cobb sucked air through his teeth. “Engines are back up to an optimal operating level, but even with both me and Paz working the controls, the ship’s too big to be out of atmo before they’d be on us. With the amount of thrust needed to even get this beauty off the surface from a complete stand-still, we’d just be letting them know where we are.”

“We wouldn’t want to push the ship so hard that it interferes with other sustaining functions,” Paz added.

Din immediately knew what Paz meant — trying to push too much power to the engines might interfere with secondary systems, like those belonging to the medbay.

“Do we know the weapons capabilities of their ship?” Bo-Katan asked, leaning over a console. “Maybe a couple laser cannons? Photon torpedoes?”

Boba pulled up yet another display on the HUD. “Best as we can figure, they have heavy laser cannons, possibly a ball turret in the belly based on the size,” Boba replied. “Potentially a major pain in our ass, but we have enough firepower to fight back. However, since they’re airborne, we’re going to just be a target for them. A Corvette-class ship out here in the middle of nowhere, especially on top of this ridgeline, will be easy to spot.”

“Can we go ahead and pull up our shields on the bridge, just in case?” Din asked, turning to Fennec. “It might buy us some time.”

“For what?” Boba pressed.

Din turned back towards Boba. “For everyone on board to escape and head towards your ship,” he said, his tone even. “If they choose to fire on us, I need everyone to get the hell out of here and regroup — hell, get back to Tatooine, if you have to. I’ll stay here with the ship, distract them while you’re leaving.”

“That’s insane,” Boba scoffed. “You’re not pulling this with me, Djarin — I’m not leaving you behind.”

Din found Paz’s eyeline through his visor. “Vod, if the time comes, get Luke out of the medbay and get him onboard Fett’s ship. Can you promise me that?”

“Ni suvarir,” Paz said, with only a short, terse nod.

“No, there’s no ‘understanding’ here,” Boba snapped back. “If you stay behind, none of this means anything. You and that Jedi didn’t drag us all over the f*cking galaxy to have us turn back now.”

“Boba, please,” Fennec said, in that familiar, scolding tone Din heard her use whenever Boba crossed a line. “If it were your mission, you’d do the same.”

“I ain’t the one with the f*cking sword,” Boba retorted. “This mission doesn’t make sense without him. It’s what the prophecy said.”

Din remembered the horrifying, vivid visions the Force granted him, and that familiar bitter, acrid taste rose up in his mouth — it tasted like panic, like living in the wrong choice — and he couldn’t help but agree with Boba. It didn’t seem fair to anyone else.

Then again, perhaps he had already made the right choice before.

“Bo-Katan, remember what we talked about before? What it means to be a leader of Mandalorians?” said Din as he turned towards her. “If it comes down to that, you’re taking the damn sword and taking back the planet. Do whatever you have to do.”

“That prophecy or whatever the f*ck it is was meant for you,” Bo-Katan shot back. “You cannot back out of your obligations that easily.”

Din stood up from the captain’s seat. “I’m not asking you to do my job for me,” he said as he strode over to the entrance of the bridge. “A leader makes plans and makes plans for plans. I don’t intend to die here, but what sort of king would I be if I didn’t at least have some sort of contingency plan set up?”

“Wait!” Bo-Katan shouted. “Where are you going?”

“Going to do what a leader does,” Din said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go play diplomat. You’ll be able to see me from the main viewport.”

“What do you want us to do if they turn hostile?” asked Paz.

“Fire back, I suppose,” Din answered. “Shots across the bow. Try to incapacitate before killing them.”

“And if something happens to your dumbass and we can’t get to you?” Fennec asked.

“Well, you have your marching orders on that one,” said Din. He unclipped the Darksaber from his belt and handed it to Bo-Katan, pommel first. “Get out of here by any means necessary and don’t look back.”

Bo-Katan hesitated before accepting the sword. “You’re foolish for not taking this with you.”

“I was foolish to take it in the first place, and here we are,” Din said as he backed out of the bridge. “Can’t stop the stupid streak now.”

“Wait.”

Din turned around to find Boba approaching him with his helmet in hand, already reaching for his rifle.

“Boba— “

“Can it, Djarin,” Boba said as he slipped his helmet over his head. “If you’re going to do something stupid, you won’t be doing it alone.”

Din wanted to argue, to tell Boba that he was going out there for the safety of the crew — Boba included — but decided against it. If Din thought he had any sort of pride in his body, Boba must have it in spades. For a moment, he also wondered if trying to go it alone was something Din wanted to prove to himself.

He decided no one should have to bear the weight of guilt just because he decided to grow an ego all of a sudden.

“Let’s just make this an easy meeting, then,” Din said as he led them both out towards the ship’s main exit.

“We’ll see,” said Boba.

Within moments of stepping outside of the Tantive IV, Din immediately spotted the semi-disc shape of the freighter heading straight towards their location, close enough to see the various satellite dishes and accoutrements added to it. The strange offset co*ckpit gave it a specifically Corellian look, if Din were a gambling man. Maybe Cobb was right — they might have criminals on their hands.

Din sighed with relief. Scum, Din knew — easy to intimidate, even easier to swindle. Hell, a few well-placed blaster shots, some whipcord action, and they might be able to haul this thing to a scrapyard for fuel money. He thought briefly about letting them go and forgetting this all happened, but the better angel of his nature was sleeping in medbay, and his highly impressionable kid was off doing Jedi sh*t.

Boba Fett wouldn’t stop him from robbing scum, that’s for sure.

“I recognize that ugly f*cking ship,” Boba’s voice crackled over Din’s earpiece. “Had a very unfortunate run-in with the bastard that flies it. Be on your guard.”

“Are they dangerous?” asked Din.

“Extremely lucky,” answered Boba.

Finally, the freighter arrived and found a section of the landing zone for themselves, fairly close to the Tantive IV. The jet blast churned up the snow, sending a few drifts flying towards Din and scattering uselessly across the surface of his armor. Without much thought, he rested his thumbs on the buckle of his utility belt — a familiar stance, it kept his hands within sight to show non-aggression but remained within a breath’s distance of his blaster.

The second the freighter landed, the loading ramp lowered, and two figures stepped down from the belly of the ship and out into the snow. Immediately, Din recognized the woman on his right — no one could ever forget Ahsoka Tano after meeting her — but he couldn’t quite place the other woman on his left. She seemed oddly familiar; in a way he knew would bother him until he figured it out. At least he had a friend on board. He wondered if maybe Ahsoka was meant to join them, and perhaps fate led them both to this icy wasteland.

He wondered if the Force ghosts would have to adjust their prognostications. Could they stand being wrong?

“How many damn people are going to haunt me from my past today?” Boba grumbled in Din’s ear.

“You have bad blood with Ahsoka Tano, too?” Din responded.

“Long story, mate,” said Boba. “Who’s the lady on her right?”

“Don’t know, but does she look…?”

“Appears to be in the family way, yes,” Boba finished for him.

“Din Djarin!” Ahsoka’s voice shouted over the distance. “It’s good to see you!”

Din raised a hand to wave towards the approaching party. Ahsoka is a friend, and the other lady couldn’t possibly be a threat. With the freighter parked, they were no longer a direct airborne threat. Everyone worried for nothing.

He could do this. It would be fine.

The moment he began to lift his arm, however, a terrifying pressure descended upon him, almost as though a waterfall opened up from the sky and hit him over the head and shoulders. His knees buckled underneath him from the sheer force bearing down on him and he struggled to keep himself from collapsing completely into the snow. He struggled for air. As the world closed in on him, he realized he couldn’t keep fighting against the force weighing him down. Behind him, he could hear Boba wheezing through his vocoder.

Despite the struggle, Din managed to bring his head up long enough to see a flash of brilliant blue light and hear the eerie hum of burning plasma filling his ears.

“LEIA, STOP!” Ahsoka shouted. “You’re making a mistake!”

Leia Organa, Din thought as he fought against the steady pressure that kept him on his hands and knees. Luke’s sister. A heavily pregnant sister. The last Jedi has a twin sister. Of course, she has a lightsaber, too.

Well, sh*t.

A flash of the vision the Living Force granted him crossed over his mind and Din looked up again to see that very same dead woman looking back at him with a fury that marred her gentle features. She was on him in a flash, with Ahsoka on her heels.

Din felt the pressure lift from his body for a moment and the air rushed back to his lungs momentarily. He sighed in relief, but not before a well-placed kick to his ribs knocked him onto his back. The pressure resumed. Leia stood over Din’s body with her sword raised high above her head, ready to strike.

“I’m only going to ask once, Mandalorian,” Leia spat as she looked down on him. “What did you do to my brother? Where are you hiding him?”

A burst of plasma rang out overhead, but Leia deflected it with ease, hardly taking her eyes off her prey.

“Keep your f*cking hands off of him!” Din could hear Bo-Katan’s voice shout across the field. “Ahsoka Tano, collect your girl before I do it for you!”

“Stop!” Din shouted, but he had no idea if his voice worked. He could only hear the sounds of Bo-Katan’s choked off rattle as Leia raised a hand in the ship’s direction.

“I didn’t tear across half of the galaxy to leave without him,” Leia said as she dropped her hand, and presumably Bo-Katan with it. “I’ve been searching for days.”

Despite his pain, Din felt a small bit of affection for her — he knew exactly what it was to destroy anyone in his path for someone he loved. He’d done it before, and he’d do it again.

“You can make this easy on you and tell me where he is,” Leia continued, “or that ship will become your f*cking funeral pyre. Have I made myself clear?”

“Leia, he can’t even breathe, much less answer you,” Ahsoka said as she gently placed her hands on Leia’s shoulders. “I know this man. He’s a good person, and he would never hurt Luke. Let’s calm down and think this through.”

The pressure abated just a little as Din’s lungs filled with air. Leia still stood over him with her sword pointed directly at his neck. He’d never felt so grateful for Ahsoka’s presence in his life.

Then, he saw Ahsoka’s hands fly away from her shoulders and heard Ahsoka groan as she landed somewhere in a distance snowdrift. The weight now fell fully onto his chest.

“A ‘good man’ wouldn’t have made my brother’s presence in the Force blink out of existence, making me think he died,” Leia sneered. “And then he comes back into the Force again out of nowhere. What, did you get Force-suppressant cuffs on him? Were you torturing him? What did you do, Mandalorian?”

“I-I would,” Din groaned, fighting for every single breath he could get, “never—”

“Never what?” Leia pressed. “Never kidnap him, take the ship I gave to him and wreak havoc across the galaxy? What else should I expect from some Outer Rim bounty hunter traveling with Boba Fett, of all people? Especially after we heard you tried to turn Luke into a remnant Empire outpost for his bounty, you f*cking asshole.”

The accusation that he’d ever harm Luke in any way hurt worse than the burning in his lungs.

“Please,” Din groaned.

He could hear the Tantive IV’s guns whine as they came to life, the turrets whirring as Fennec no doubt trained them directly onto their location. Din didn’t want things to end this way; at this rate, no one would be making it out alive. He felt like a fool, rushing out into danger without any idea what he might face. Luke wasn’t here to save them, and Din might’ve just gotten them all killed.

“Rot in hell,” Leia said, with almost no passion in her voice. The voice of a woman that’s taken far too many lives to care about another one.

The pressure of her will bore down on him once again; this time, mercifully, it pressed around Din’s neck and allowed his vision to tunnel out so he wouldn’t have to watch his own demise.

A strange, electric clashing sound rang out above him, and a warm, beautiful presence stood on the other side of his body. Underneath his helmet, Din smiled.

“Leia, that is enough,” Luke said as Din’s mind slipped under the welcoming embrace of unconsciousness.

Din felt himself slowly emerge back into reality with his head throbbing in pain. Looking around, he saw nothing but white curtains and emptiness. Sitting up, he realized he was back onboard the Tantive IV, completely alone. Memories of how he ended up back in the medbay — this time as a patient — flooded back and he clutched at his head, not finding his helmet on his head. In a panic, he reached out and found it right next to his hand.

He sighed deeply. At least there was that.

An ear-splitting scream cut through the bay and Din scrambled off the gurney and out of the curtains as fast as his body could take him. A flurry of activity rushed to meet him as various members of the crew ran around the medbay, including Luke. His heart soared at the sight of Luke up and about the ship at last.

“Luke, are you alright?” Din asked, trying to reach out for him.

“Never better!” Luke shouted as he took off towards the medbay’s entrance. “Sorry, can’t talk; I have to boil water!”

“For what?”

“Djarin, you’re awake,” Fennec said as she came around the corner and grabbed him around his upper arm. “Good! We need all hands on deck.”

“Please tell me what’s going on,” Din said as he shuffled his feet to keep up with Fennec’s shoving. “Kinda tired of waking up and getting punched in the face with yet another major crisis. Feels like a pattern.”

“It’s a minor crisis, compared to nearly dying in the vacuum of space — a bigger crisis compared to you getting knocked the f*ck out,” Fennec answered.

“Oh, well, thanks for putting it into perspective,” Din groused.

“Relax a little, will you?” Fennec said as they arrived at the end of the medbay, where Din figured the source of the screaming came from. “She’s having a baby — well, two babies. Twins. She needs support. You’re a dad, so you can go in there and help her out.”

“What?”

And with a hard shove, Din found himself in the middle of the wildest tableau he’d ever seen: Leia Organa in the middle of labor and Ahsoka Tano doing her level best to comfort her. Bo-Katan stood behind the gurney, hanging up an IV bag onto a pole. Ahsoka sat by Leia, speaking in soft, slow words that Din couldn’t hear while she brushed Leia’s hair out of her eyes.

“H-hello,” Din stuttered. “Do you need any help?”

It wasn’t the only birth he’d ever been present for — childbirth was a special, joyous moment in the Covert — but this would be the first time someone said they needed his assistance for anything. He had absolutely no idea what to do.

“Take over for me,” Bo-Katan said, “I need to go find some extra sheets. Doctor’s orders.”

As Bo-Katan exited the area, Din noticed the ship’s med droid stood off to the side, not moving as Leia attempted to kick it away from her side.

“I don’t want any droids near me for this,” Leia growled. “Make it go away.”

Din understood completely. “2-1B, please stand down,” he said. “We’ll take care of things from here.”

“Very good, sir. I’ll go check on the patient in shock,” the med droid said as it turned to leave.

“What the f*ck happened while I was out?” asked Din as he turned back towards Ahsoka and Leia.

“Someone put far too much strain on her body while going on a murderous rampage, and now she’s gone into early labor,” Ahsoka said as she summoned a wet rag from a bucket nearby. She paused to pat Leia’s face down. “This is what happens when we don’t listen to doctors.”

Leia, for her part, could only whine in pain.

“Do we need to find her partner?” asked Din. “I can hop on the comms and let someone know she’s here.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Her husband and his first mate were the ones that flew us to Valinor. They came here after we brought everyone into the ship’s medbay, but after watching her water break, the husband passed out. Some men can’t handle the miracle of birth, I guess.”

“Is he in another bed here?”

“Two Mandalorians took off with Han after he hit the floor; probably put him in one of the rooms on board,” Ahsoka answered. “Keeps him out of the way so he doesn’t try to crack his skull open again.”

“And the first mate?”

“We asked the Wookiee to leave when he couldn’t handle watching the med droid hook her up to an IV,” Ahsoka said. “I hope your stomach’s stronger than theirs.”

“I feel another one coming,” Leia said, the panic in her voice rising. “You, with the big brown eyes,” she said, pointing at Din, “get over here and hold my hand. I need moral support.”

Before he could object, Din’s body moved on its own and found the same swiveling seat he’d used earlier to take up the spot next to Leia. Part of him wanted to feel bitter about Leia immediately attacking him and nearly murdering him in cold blood, but another, much gentler part of him couldn’t hold it against her. Not when she was in this much pain, at least.

He held out his right hand and Leia took it into his own, wrapping her much smaller fingers around the meat of his palm. She squeezed his hand so tight that her knuckles turned completely white as she let out a full-throated scream, riding out the pain of yet another contraction while Ahsoka attempted to soothe her. Din only wrapped his fingers over her palm and stayed as still as possible while she fought against his gentle grip.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do this,” Leia gasped as the pain seemed to subside. “This f*cking sucks.”

“You’re doing good,” Din said as he felt a stabbing sensation in the tips of his fingers, the circulation returning.

“You have no idea if I’m doing good, but thank you for saying so,” Leia said. She threw her head back into the mattress and finally turned to look at Din. “Let’s just get this out of the way: I’m sorry for almost killing you and threatening to kill everyone else. Not my finest moment.”

“Don’t worry about apologizing to me,” Din said. “You have more pressing matters at hand.”

“No, it matters,” Leia retorted. She kept a hold of Din’s hand while she spoke. “Please understand — other than these babies and my jelly-kneed husband, Luke is my only family left in the entire galaxy. I panicked badly. Being this pregnant didn’t help.”

“It’s true — she was a wreck,” Ahsoka added. “I tried to meditate with her, tried to have her release her stress out into the Force, but she’s just like her father.”

“Not the compliment you think it is, Auntie,” Leia said as her head lolled back towards Ahsoka.

“’Auntie’?” Din interrupted.

“I’ll explain later,” Ahsoka said. “As for you, young lady, I just meant that you’re headstrong — which is far from the worst trait you could’ve inherited.”

“How dare you try to comfort me in a time like this,” Leia snarked, her voice deadpan as she turned her head towards Din again. “So, let me reiterate — I am very sorry for what I did. I acted like a horrifying rage monster, and I am sorry for dragging you in here to help me after I choked you out with my brain. You’re not actually obligated to be here. I would leave if I could, but as you can see, that’s a bit hard. I’ll be out of your way when I can.”

“I forgive you,” Din said. He meant it. “You don’t have to leave, either. You can stay here as long as you like. Luke said this was originally your ship, anyway.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Leia, I also nearly took Din out myself,” Ahsoka said. “Not quite as violently, but nevertheless.”

Din huffed. “I think everyone on this ship except for Luke has either wanted to kill me or actually tried to kill me at some point. Neither of you are special.”

“Good to know we’re part of a growing club,” Leia groaned as she shifted around on the gurney in a struggle to get comfortable. “So, you’re Din Djarin — Ahsoka said you’re a bounty hunter with a little green boy. He’s not here, right?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m sorry you’re not with your kid right now,” Leia said, and Din knew she was sincere.

“He’s safe and sound — I’m alright with that,” Din said. It wasn’t entirely true, but it felt good to say.

“Any parenting tips for a first-time mom?” asked Leia.

The corner of Din’s mouth quirked up into a soft smile. “Pick your battles, especially if your kid has magic cosmic powers.”

“Sounds doable,” Leia said. “Speaking of picking battles, what are you doing cavorting around the galaxy with my brother and a bunch of the galaxy’s most wanted criminals?”

Ahsoka cleared her throat. “That’s a loaded question, so I’ll answer that. You’re talking to the current ruler of Mandalore, and the pack of criminals on board is helping him get the planet back.”

Din shot Ahsoka a look.

“We have some mutual friends, if you get my drift,” Ahsoka supplied.

“Understood,” Din said.

Leia’s eyes narrowed. “You almost let me kill the king of a planet?”

“I tried stopping you,” Ahsoka said.

“Making some real genius moves here, huh?” Leia asked.

“Don’t worry about that. Focus on the baby,” Din said, gently letting her arm fall back to the mattress.

“Babies,” Leia corrected. “Twins.”

“Right. Guess we’re in for a long night, huh?”

“Would be faster if we were back on Chandrila, but no, my stupid brother had to go missing,” Leia groaned. “Now I’m giving birth on my old ship surrounded by the weirdest collection of people I could possibly think of.”

“You’re the one that invited a Wookiee on board, ma’am,” Din said.

Leia leveled him with a look before bursting out in laughter. “You can’t make me laugh while I’m giving birth, you jerk. This is a sacred event in our lives.”

“Would you rather I get your husband back in here?” Din asked. “I’m sure he’ll be solemn enough for the occasion, if he manages to stay passed out.”

Giggles wracked her body as she fought to keep them contained. Ahsoka mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ over Leia’s head.

“I get what Luke sees in you,” Leia said as she came down from her laughter.

Din wanted to ask her what that meant, but hurried footsteps approaching Leia’s bed interrupted his thoughts. Din stood up from his seat and prepared himself to handle traffic on her behalf. From around the curtain, Cobb Vanth peeked his head around the edge and gave the three of them a cheerful wave.

“I heard we’re about to welcome a couple of lives into the world!” Cobb said with a great beaming smile. “I had to go find a box of disposable gloves somewhere in that mess y’all call a supply closet, but I found some and we’re good to go. How far along are the contractions?”

“What are you, a cop?” Leia spat.

“Yes, ma’am,” Cobb answered. “Well, a sheriff, to be more precise. The med droid said you sent it away, so I came to offer my services.”

Leia scoffed. “If you’re a cop, you’re not a doctor — get out before I make you get out.”

“I’ll leave if you want me to,” Cobb said, his hands raised up near his head. “However, as the sheriff of a very small town, I’ve successfully delivered five babies with no complications. I’d dare say I’m the most experienced person onboard.”

“Ahsoka, you’ve helped deliver a baby, right?” Leia asked, looking up at her.

“No, dear,” Ahsoka said.

More bustling came through the medbay, with Bo-Katan, Fennec, and Luke arriving with more supplies in hand. Luke had a giant pot of extremely hot water in his hands, and he set it down on a nearby table. Din’s heart leapt up into his throat at the sight of him, looking as hale and hearty as ever. He wanted to rush over there and tell Luke how happy he was that he was up and about, but now wasn’t the time.

“Excuse me but have either of you ladies ever delivered a baby?” asked Leia, her voice growing wearier.

“I think I’ve only ever known two pregnant people in my life,” Bo-Katan answered.

“Pregnancy, as a general rule, freaks me out,” Fennec shrugged. “If I don’t leave soon, I will probably also pass out.”

Din sighed. “I hate saying this, but I think Cobb’s your best bet.”

Leia groaned. “Fine.”

“To answer your question, the contractions have been about ten minutes or so apart,” Ahsoka answered.

Cobb nodded. “We’re getting close, then. Got everything we need, I think — thanks to my fellow crewmates here.”

“Why’d you need all that water?” asked Leia.

“Ask Cobb,” Luke said. “I did what I was told.”

“Kept him busy,” Cobb answered. “We don’t actually need hot water.”

“Same with the sheets we just scoured the ship for?” Bo-Katan asked incredulously.

“Yep!” Cobb smiled at Leia from the foot of the bed. “Gotta give people a purpose, or else they spiral out of control.”

Leia’s face scrunched up in pain. “You’re about as shady as you are tall, but I respect your ability to manipulate others in a tough situation.”

Cobb’s smile grew wider. “Don’t worry, we’re going to get through this just fine.”

Leia’s hand reaching for Din’s immediately brought him back to his assigned position as her right-hand pillar of support. Another harsh contraction came over her, and Din took her hand in his own once again.

“Aunt Ahsoka, let me give you a break,” Luke said as he approached Leia’s left side.

Din watched as Leia let go of Ahsoka’s hand and immediately reached for Luke’s hand, gripping it in the same stranglehold she had Din’s own hand in. Her breathing grew heavier with every inhale.

“I’m here, Leia,” Luke said, kneeling down next to her. “We’ve got you whenever you’re ready.”

“You think your man over there can handle this?” Leia asked. A now-familiar grimace of pain crossed her face again. “Han and Chewie are both down for the count. It’s not too late to back out now.”

“I trust Din with my life, Leia,” Luke said with the sort of confidence Din wished he had in himself. “We’ve got you.”

Leia’s labor lasted for three more hours, which, to Din, felt like an eternity. He couldn’t imagine how it felt for Leia. However, when everything was said and done, with Leia holding her children — each with ten fingers and ten toes, both of them screaming at the top of their lungs — Din thought it was all completely worth it. The babies were swaddled up and in the best approximation for a crib they could create on the ship, and their father was finally back around for his first watch. Everything was as it should be, and everyone else finally went their different ways. (Luke made Leia promise to let him know if she needed anything, but Leia shooed him out before falling asleep, herself.)

Once the visiting family settled down for the night, the crew attending Leia’s bedside emerged from the medbay to find a wonderfully hearty meal — a redolent tiingilar made to suit any palate — that Boba and Paz spent hours putting together. After commiserating and celebrating, everyone began to peel off one by one until the only people left awake on the ship were Din and Luke — the only people that had any real measure of sleep in the last twelve hours.

Once the final crew member took off, the two of them sat at the galley table in a comfortable, companionable silence for a good amount of time. It was the first time Luke and Din managed to be alone since the night prior, and a brief bout of anxiety seized Din. If they were ever going to address what happened with the Living Force, it might as well be now.

He tried to summon some sort of courage, tried tapping into the very wellspring of bravery that inspired him to finally admit his feelings, but came up short. The idea that Luke might push him away conquered what little motivation Din had in trying to start the conversation. Therefore, the only logical conclusion Din could come up with was to simply repress any feelings he had about it and wait until Luke said anything.

If Luke never mentioned it, perhaps that was the answer Din needed and he could simply bottle up his feelings until he died. That was reasonable, responsible, and, most of all, safe.

“What a f*cking day we’ve had,” Din said, finally choosing a simple, inoffensive discussion topic to break up the silence. His fingers toyed with a small glass of spotchka as he spoke — his sole glass of the night. “How are you holding up?”

“Think I’d rather face another interdimensional monster than go through that again,” said Luke as he leaned back into his chair. “I love my sister, but she’s a force of nature at the best of times.”

“I think at some point, we’re owed a normal day on this ship,” said Din. “Maybe we’ll just play sabacc here in the galley, or we all have a nice dinner. A day where we’re not in mortal danger, at the very least.”

“When that happens, I think we’ll all probably die of either shock or boredom,” Luke said.

Din couldn’t help but agree. “How long was I out for, by the way?”

“Maybe about an hour or so.”

“Never took that long to recover from getting choked out before,” said Din. “Did she do some space magic on me?”

“Either that, or your body just didn’t feel like getting up,” Luke shrugged. “Everything happened so fast. Something told me I needed to get up; I sensed something was off the moment I came to, immediately went out onto the bridge and saw the crew in an absolute panic. I didn’t even think about it — I just ran out into the snow, sword out, and… yeah.”

“Thank you for saving my ass — didn’t get a chance to do so earlier.”

Luke smiled at Din in that odd, utterly charming way that seemed specifically designed to make Din’s pulse race.

“You never, ever have to thank me for that. Besides, no one else on that ship could’ve stopped Leia. I felt bad for Boba and Bo-Katan — they tried, but there was no way. I feel awful that this whole thing happened.”

“You can’t control what your sister does or doesn’t do,” Din said. “None of this is your fault.”

“I explained to her later about the dreams, the lack of sleep — using your beskar to help me sleep,” Luke said. “When it cut me off from the Force, I didn’t think it’d be so powerful so as to keep others from sensing my presence. I understand why she thought the worst. I feel terrible, Din.”

“Don’t feel guilty for taking care of yourself,” Din said. He paused to swallow down the rest of the liquor in his glass, letting the alcohol burn pleasantly down his throat. “I’m the one who practically forced you, anyway. If anyone bears any responsibility for invoking your sister’s holy wrath, it’s me.”

“Tell you what — if you come up to the bridge with me and get me out from underneath these fluorescent lights, I’ll call us squared away,” Luke said as he stood up from his chair.

Din stood up, as well. “Any particular reason why?”

“I just love seeing the stars, is all,” Luke shrugged as he shuffled his way past Din and towards the main hall of the ship. “That, and being here reminds me that we’ll have to do the dishes and I’d rather not think about that.”

Din couldn’t help but follow wherever Luke went, and tonight was no different.

Once they arrived on the bridge, Luke opened up the viewport controls on the main console and activated the main solar viewport panel covers. As they slid away, Valinor’s night sky opened up to them and bathed the room in soft, unfiltered starlight.

“That’s better,” said Luke as he took a seat on the floor directly underneath the viewport. “Don’t know if it’d be comfortable for you, but the best way to see the stars is from here.”

Din sighed but did as Luke asked and — very slowly — laid down next to him. As much as he was loathe to admit, Luke had a point. The stars looked beautiful from here, with a brilliant, milky band of the galaxy filling the night sky with the strange, cloudy colors that made up the galactic core. With a view like this, he could ignore the ache in his lower back for a while.

“Thank you for being in there with us, by the way,” Luke said, interrupting the silence. “I can’t thank you enough for taking initiative like that.”

“I was nothing but a squeeze toy — both before and after Leia went into labor,” Din laughed. “Someone needed me, so I stepped up. Nothing brave about that.”

“Y’know, she doesn’t ever show it on her face, but she was frightened beyond belief,” said Luke as he reached out and grabbed Din’s hand, their fingers easily interlacing.

Din’s heart skipped several beats, but said nothing as he let Luke take his hand. Luke’s skin felt so warm and alive next to his. His mind swam with a thousand possibilities — what Luke wanted, if Luke understood what this gesture meant to Din, if Luke was even mentally present for Din pouring out his heart earlier — but in this moment, he just let Luke hold his hand if it was what Luke needed.

“Our mother died sometime after giving birth to us,” Luke continued. “We don’t know why — our uncle Obi-Wan was told that she died of a broken heart. I think that sounds absurd, but the Force works in mysterious ways. Because of that, Leia didn’t want to have her children end up like us.”

“Like what?” asked Din.

“Lonely,” Luke answered. “Leia and I were split up at birth to hide our identities from our father and avoid whatever fate the Empire saw fit to bestow on Force sensitive children. The only families we knew as kids are both gone now. She didn’t want anything like that happening to her children.”

“What about their father? They would still have him,” Din asked.

“It’s not that,” Luke said. “It’s only now that the galactic government isn’t actively pursuing Force sensitives, but as you’re all too keenly aware, it’s still not safe for anyone with our abilities. No one outside of a very select circle even knows that Leia is Force sensitive, much less that I’m her brother and Vader was our father. We keep that information safe so she can do the work she does.”

Din hummed. “What would be the alternative, then?”

“It’s something the three of us discussed when she received the news. If the worst happened, I would take one child, while Han would take the other. We’d both go off the grid and figure out a way to bring them back together,” Luke answered. “No one would ever know we were biologically related, so there would be some plausible deniability of their connection to the Force.”

A sting of silence hung in the air like a held breath.

“Luke, the fact your family had to think about that — that’s terrifying to me,” Din said at last. “I have a Force sensitive child and I worry about him every single day. I never had to think about what I might’ve had to do before he ever came into my life, though. I’m so sorry.”

Luke’s fingers gently squeezed against Din’s own. “It was truly a blessing that everyone made it and we don’t have to think about that. And it’s proof that we’re winning.”

“What do you mean?”

“The vision, Din — you remember?”

Din couldn’t help but remember. “Of course.”

“The vision the Living Force showed us had Leia dying while pregnant in Chandrila, in the Senate main chamber,” Luke continued. “She’s very alive, here on Valinor, and no longer pregnant. We’re not out of the woods yet, but we’re winning.”

Din couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I guess you’re right. It doesn’t feel like we’re winning, but I’ll take it.”

“It hasn’t been easy, but I think we’ve been doing great,” Luke retorted. “Aunt Ahsoka came to us, and we don’t have to go find her. I think the Force meant for all of us to be here after all.”

“Wait,” Din said. “We were going to go look for Ahsoka Tano? She’s the next knight?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, I just… I just thought the people we were looking for were all going to be Mandalorians, or Mandalorian adjacent,” said Din. “I’m just surprised.”

“Something tells me there’s a reason she’s involved — but we’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Luke said. “As I’m beginning to learn, your people and mine have intertwined in ways I don’t think either of us realized before.”

Din laughed. “That’s a rather dramatic way of putting it.”

“How would you have said it?”

“Don’t know, but it’d be better that,” Din scoffed as he ran a thumb over the edge of Luke’s palm. “Maybe I’ll have something for you after I’ve had some more sleep.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that Din Djarin, Mandalorian warrior-poet, is always judging the lyricism of my sentences,” said Luke, and Din could hear the eyeroll in his voice.

“I thought wizards were good with words,” Din jabbed.

“Not wizards that grew up in the desert with a very limited literary education,” Luke parried. “Tell you what, though — what I lack in poetry, I make up for in extensive, unfathomable knowledge of farm machinery. I can strip a moisture vaporator, fix a microfilament in it, and rebuild it in twenty minutes.”

“Blindfolded?”

“And with handcuffs,” Luke added, jostling their joined hands for emphasis.

“Careful, now — say that around the wrong person and they might start getting ideas.”

Luke sat up at that and let go of Din’s hand. “And what kind of ideas would those be?”

“That taking apart a moisture vaporator’s a useful skill,” Din said.

After a beat, Luke let out a loud, delighted laugh. Din always looked forward to the way Luke reacted to his jokes, the way they’d banter back and forth like they’d been doing it for years. Even laying out on the floor of the bridge, with nothing but each other and the stars above them for company, Din knew he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Luke cleared his throat. “Now that it’s just the two of us, I have a possibly dangerous discussion topic to bring up and I don’t know how else to say it.”

The dread Din felt was immense, but he knew the topic was unavoidable. He squeezed Luke’s hand in reassurance.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, Luke.”

“Can we talk about what happened last night?” Luke asked, and Din could feel his stomach fall right through the floor.

“…Do you mean the thing with the Living Force?” Din asked in turn, despite knowing the answer.

Luke nodded. “I wasn’t in control of myself, but I was there. I heard everything.”

Well, there was an answer to one question, Din thought. Might as well get the worst over with. He could protect his heart and they could move on.

Din’s eyes fluttered shut and he sighed deeply. “Luke, I understand if this is too much. You and I should trust each other, and my… my emotions shouldn’t get in the way of our partnership.”

“Din, I — “

“I feel ridiculous,” Din continued. He turned away from Luke, unable to look him in the eye. “I’m always professional, always focused on the mission. I never wanted to put you in the position of trying to determine whether or not I’m trustworthy.”

“Please— “

“We can just forget this whole thing happened, if that makes you feel better.”

“Why would that make me feel better?”

“Because you have so much more to worry about,” Din sighed. “You don’t need me pining after you on top of it.”

The sullen look on Luke’s face made Din stop in his tracks. He knew immediately that somewhere, he had crossed a line.

“Luke, I’m sorry— “

“Do you believe I think you’re a burden?” Luke said, his voice low and soft. “Do you think I don’t… that I can’t care about you?”

That gave Din pause, but a bit of hope sprang up in his chest despite himself.

“I don’t presume to know what you think. I just know it scares me to find out.”

A darkness cast itself over Luke’s face, but as quickly as it came, it left.

“I see,” Luke said, standing up from his seat on the floor. “I think I understand. I’ll leave you be, then.”

Springing up from the floor, Din managed to gently stop Luke from making for the bridge’s entrance. Without much thought, Din put his hands over Luke’s upper arms and guided Luke back to face him. Even still, Luke’s eyes remained glued to the floor.

“Luke, what is it you think you understand? Talk to me.”

When Luke finally looked up at Din, eyes limned with tears, he could only swallow around the words stuck in his throat.

“I don’t know if you see me as a man, or if you see me as a monster,” Luke said.

Din let out a startled bark of a laugh. “I wanted to fight a living god for you — what makes you think I would ever think of you as anything less than perfect?”

“That’s just it, Din — I am not perfect,” Luke shot back. “You can’t even imagine a world where I might possibly feel the same for you because you can’t wrap your mind around my existence. I’m not real to you, so you’ve given up on me before I could disappoint you.”

“That’s not true,” Din said. “I’ve never thought that.”

“Then why have you put me up on a pedestal?” Luke asked — nearly demanded. “I am just a man. I did not choose this life any more than you have, but that doesn’t mean I can’t want more than what I was given, too.”

At a loss for words, Din simply pulled Luke into his arms and held Luke’s body against his own chest. He could feel Luke’s nose nuzzle into the side of his neck and Din nearly felt his heart give out from the sheer intimacy of the gesture. He reached for the nape of Luke’s neck and nestled his bare fingers into the outgrown hair, wishing that Luke could just understand how he felt.

“Ever since we met, I would save all these questions in my mind for you,” Din began. He pulled himself back just enough to look straight into Luke’s eyes. “I wanted to know how things worked, why things happened the way they did, how did the Force do what it did. Sometimes, when we weren’t alone or I wasn’t with you, I just wanted to know what you might be thinking about. I wanted to know your opinions on things, what you might say about my own thoughts. I wanted to know you for you alone. Your abilities have so little to do with the person that you are.”

“Did any of those questions involve me being a monster?” Luke whispered, the sound strained and broken.

“No,” Din said, hands coming up to cup the sides of Luke’s face. “I would never think that of you.”

“Everyone’s scared of me. They think I don’t see it, but I do,” said Luke as that bone-deep sorrow bubbled up and spread through the cracks in his thin voice. Din felt it ache in his own chest. “They treat me well enough, but I’m always left wondering if they’re kind because they respect me as a human being, or if they’re afraid of what I’ll do if they cross me. I couldn’t stand it if you felt the same way.”

“I could never be scared of you,” Din said. “I can’t be scared of a man that risked life and limb for a little animal, who opens his arms and his heart for the very people that once tried to harm him. You are so utterly human — completely made of love.”

Luke made an odd, wet sort of chuckle. Din felt something warm burst in his chest at the thought that he finally made Luke smile, that Luke smiled like that only for him.

“Listen to me, Luke,” Din continued, his thumbs wiping an errant tear away from Luke’s cheek. “You’re a gentle soul. No matter your ancestry, no matter what the Force says, you’re so much more than a prophecy or a tool to be used for the Force’s will. You’re the best person I know. You’re my best friend.”

Luke cracked a gentle, watery smile. “You must lead a very lonely life if I’m your best friend.”

“That’s not very nice,” Din retorted, his voice soft. “You don’t get to talk about my best friend like that. Those are fighting words.”

“And you would fight me for it?”

Din felt his hands tremble against Luke’s skin as he realized just what he wanted to say.

“No. The strength of his heart is the measure of a man, not the power he wields,” Din said, letting the words just flow without much real thought — just pouring his own heart out in the hopes Luke understood. “I treasure that heart of yours more than anything else in the galaxy.

“In my life, I yielded to no one — I stood alone and let no one in,” Din continued. He placed one of Luke’s hands over his cuirass, right over his own heart. “I hid myself behind this armor to protect myself from the cruelty of the universe. But for you? For you, I’d do anything you asked, be anything you need.” He exhaled. “If you wanted me to leave this armor behind and start all over again, I would. Whatever this is between us, I surrender myself completely to it. This is all I want.”

“You can’t mean that,” Luke croaked out. “What about our mission? Your knights? Your people, Din — they all need you.”

“None of it means anything without you.”

“Why?”

“You are whatever a king has always meant,” Luke said as he placed his hands on both of Din’s shoulders, “and whatever a king may be will always be you.”

“Luke Skywalker, you are whatever magic has always meant,” Din said, his voice growing steadier and stronger, “and whatever magic may be will always be you. How could I not build my life around you?”

Luke only bit his lip in response. Still holding onto Luke’s jaw, Din tipped Luke’s face up to meet his eyes. He admired the way that the tears still trapped in Luke’s lashes glistened in the low light, making Luke’s eyes glow just like that fateful night in that cantina all those weeks ago. Grinning wide, Din realized that it wasn’t Luke’s beauty that captivated him in that moment — Din saw his future in the depths of Luke’s eyes and felt it all click together. It left him bereft, frightened beyond all reason, and Din wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the feeling forever.

“I love you, and that’s all that matters to me — everything else is just stardust,” Din said, hoping he didn’t look as sick as he felt. “I’ll respect whatever you decide, but never doubt that.”

Luke reached a hand up to cup Din’s hand over his face. “You’re not upset that the Force put us together?”

“No stupid galactic deity could make me feel this way,” Din said, his voice softening to a mere breath as Luke leaned in closer to hear him. “You, alone, are entirely responsible for driving me insane and ruining my life.”

A startled laugh escaped Luke’s chest. Luke gently pulled the hand Din rested on his cheek and brought Din’s palm to his lips, leaving the gentlest trace of a kiss there.

“Then will you give me the chance to tell you how I feel? Or have you made up your mind about how you think I feel?” asked Luke.

“I am sorry,” answered Din. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Luke took Din’s hands into his own and clasped them between the two of them.

“I loved you before I ever met you, Din Djarin,” Luke sighed, weaving his fingers into Din’s own once again. “With every vision, every dream I had of you, I met someone with such a beautiful heart that it made my own ache. The image of you grew so dear to me that I was afraid that you might only be a dream.”

“And what am I now?” asked Din.

“You’re… everything to me. I feel you in my body, in the very air I breathe — like you’re the only thing keeping me in the here and now. If you ever wanted me to leave, I would, but I could never feel this again,” Luke said as he clutched onto Din’s hand even harder, his smile wobbly and unsure. “You never even had to ask me to love you. I fell into it like… like drifting into the orbit of a star. Inevitable and perfect. Right where I belonged. I could scatter into a billion pieces, stretch myself across the galaxy, and every part of me would still be missing you.”

Din bit his lip to keep himself from tearing up, himself. “You’ll never have to miss me. If you want me, I’ll always be here.”

“I don’t know what this means for our future, or if it’s the most foolish thing I’ve ever done, but I want this. I want you,” said Luke.

Din couldn’t think of anything else to say, but when he leaned forward just the slightest inch, Luke met him there. His lips were warm and plush against Din’s own, the sensation perfect and sweet. In all of Din’s life, nothing had ever felt so beautiful, so heartbreakingly intimate as this moment — when everything in his very soul burned so hot for this man that all he wanted was to consume and to be consumed entirely. When Luke threw his arms around Din’s neck, Din couldn’t help but wrap his arms around Luke’s middle and pull him even closer, needing to be as close to the love of his life as possible.

“I love you with all of my heart,” Din murmured, out of breath. He said it again and again against Luke’s skin, almost as though doing so would impress his words deep into Luke’s soul. He leaned forward again, placing a kiss on the underside of Luke’s jaw, on the side of his neck, anywhere he could find.

Luke placed a hand on Din’s jaw to guide him back to his mouth. “I loved you first,” he whispered against Din’s mouth before claiming it once again. “I love you now, and I always will.”

Din thought his knees might give out right then and there.

“Y’know, I thought you said you weren’t good with words,” Din said, trying to stay still. “Sure fooled me.”

“I guess you bring out the best in me,” Luke said, wrinkling his nose. “So, what now?”

“We’ll figure it out together. We’ve got the whole rest of our lives to think about that.”

“Gods, but you are adorable,” Luke laughed. “I meant ‘what now’ as in ‘what should we do at this very moment’ — we can’t stay here all night, Din.”

“Come to bed,” said Din as he reluctantly pulled himself out of Luke’s embrace, only to reach out a hand for Luke to take. “Let’s get some sleep. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

Chapter 10: Percival and the Holy Grail

Chapter Text

When Din woke up alone, he didn’t panic. A few questions ran through his mind, but he didn’t worry. He did wonder how Luke managed to escape the bed without waking him up — he recalled falling asleep tangled up in each other’s arms, nuzzled up against one another and feeling lighter than he had in a long, long time. It felt undeserved, somehow, feeling so satisfied. So warm. He reached a hand up to his chest and rubbed his palm against his sternum, trying to diffuse the buzzing energy building up there.

It almost felt too much. Like it wasn’t meant for him to know, wasn’t meant for him to keep for himself.

But this wasn’t just his — this belonged to Luke, too. Wanting something like this for himself couldn’t be selfish if he shared it with someone else, right?

Could there be room in his life for everything he wanted?

Rolling back over, Din faced the side of the bed where Luke used to be. The sheets smelled like his soap, still felt warm from Luke’s body. Din smiled to himself as he recalled lying in this exact position. He had muttered something to Luke, too tired to form coherent sentences, and Luke laughing as Din slipped under the black of sleep. He could get used to falling asleep to that sound.

Maybe Luke wasn’t here right now, but he’d come back. Din didn’t need to worry. All was right with the world.

A sudden banging from the ceiling of his quarters jolted Din straight out of his reverie. He leapt out of bed and immediately reached for his sword. He could hear the rattling sound as it approached a vent on the other side of the room. Even though he had no cause to think anything would attack him onboard their ship, the last few days proved to Din that he could take nothing for granted. He swallowed. The vent grate flew open.

“Din, it’s me!” Luke shouted from the vent opening.

The tension in Din’s shoulders fell.

“What in the hell are you doing?”

Luke didn’t respond. Din watched as Luke’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the vent opening, then the top of Luke’s head poked out. As graceful as a stalking anooba, Luke’s fingers gripped the edge of the vent’s opening and slowly lowered his whole body through the opening head-first, his body slowly unfurling into an upright position. The way Luke’s muscles strained through his undershirt made Din recall that morning back at the inn on Spira, and he swallowed.

A hell of a way to start the day, Din figured.

Luke landed back on the ground, his bare feet making a soft thud on the floor. When he turned around, Din couldn’t help but laugh at the static still lingering in Luke’s hair from his trip in the ventilation system. He reached over to help Luke smooth down a few errant strays.

“Didn’t mean to scare you!” Luke said at last, brushing off the dust from his shirt. “I wanted to visit Leia and the twins this morning. She woke up super early and I didn’t want her to be alone.”

“Of course. But the vents…?” asked Din.

“Well, I know how much you value your privacy — I already heard some snickering from some of our crew about us switching bunks the other night, and I didn’t want to invite further comment,” Luke explained. “No one needs to know about anything unless you want them to know it. You said as much before, right? ‘A man has a right to his secrets,’ or something to that effect.”

Din moved to the nightstand next to the bed and set the pommel of the Darksaber back down. “You’re eerily observant, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Used to get me in all kinds of trouble,” Luke answered.

“You’re nothing but trouble, Luke Skywalker,” Din shot back. He sat back down on the edge of his bed. “But you know I’m not… ashamed of you, right?”

“Never occurred to me that you might be,” Luke said as he made his way to stand in front of Din, their knees brushing.

Luke reached out to cup Din’s face. Din inhaled sharply at the sensation of Luke’s thumb stroking over a tight strand of muscle running along Din’s jaw. Din couldn’t help but lean into his touch.

“I’m not offering discretion because of shame, or fear,” Luke continued. “You deserve something that’s your own — separate from our mission, separate from Mandalore, separate from the crew. You’ve always given of yourself. Keep something for you.”

“This is… an indulgence?” Din pressed.

Luke pursed his lips, as though he had to taste the word and see if it felt right. “I should probably be flattered that I’m a rare delight, but that’s not what I mean. You’re in control of what others know about you. As a king, you can live two different lives — you can be the thing your people need, and then when you’re done doing that for the day, you can just exist as yourself — maybe that’s just lying in bed, maybe that’s playing with your son, maybe that’s —”

“Having you all to myself?” Din said, reaching a hand up to wrap over the back of Luke’s own, still resting against his cheek.

Luke flushed — Din didn’t need the infrared scanners to pick up on the heat blooming under his skin — and looked away.

“Something like that,” Luke murmured.

Din tugged Luke’s hand and guided him to sit down on the bed next to him. Their thighs still touched, and Din couldn’t help but fall into Luke’s warmth. They sat like that for a moment, a hand reaching out to entangle the other’s fingers in their own, enjoying the silence.

“Remember the night you told me the Force already showed you what I look like?” Din said at last.

“Of course.”

“What if I’d said I didn’t care that you already knew — that I’d still never remove my helmet in front of you? Would you still say the same?” asked Din. “Would you still think I ‘deserve’ my privacy?”

“I would’ve respected your decision,” Luke answered, as though nothing else would’ve ever occurred to him. “I respect you and your beliefs, always. I’d never bring it up again. You get to own your life, no matter what.”

Din hummed. He tightened his grip around Luke’s hand, in a way he hoped conveyed gratitude without having to say it. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about turning his back on his covert’s tenets. Thinking of the endless nights he spent in this very bed, staring up at the ceiling and hoping the answer to his problems would suddenly appear in plain writing across the tiles, Din could never decide if he was brave or stupid for choosing to start removing his helmet.

The more he let others see him, the easier it became to do. Was that such a sin?

“Can I be honest for a moment?” asked Luke, interrupting Din’s thoughts.

“With me? Always.”

“I deeply respect your religion and would never question your beliefs, but I am glad you let me see your face,” Luke confessed. His glance shifted to the ground. “I don’t take the level of vulnerability and trust you’ve given me for granted, either. And I thank you for it.”

“For what?” Din asked.

“I treasure every chance I get to know you as a gift, that’s all,” Luke answered, and he brought Din’s hand up to his mouth to press a gentle kiss across the back of his palm. “You honor me with every moment I see that handsome face of yours — if that makes me a little selfish, then I accept the charge.”

Din pulled back just a little, his face crumpling a little as the weight of Luke’s words hit him. He tried to fight off the furious blush working its way up his neck and onto his cheeks, but he couldn’t do it.

“Was that too much?” asked Luke, looking up from Din’s hand and through his eyelashes, in that painfully endearing way.

Din shook his head. “No, I’m just… you always know how to say the thing I need to hear.”

“Is that so?”

“I… I suppose I wondered much the same,” Din began, “asking myself if choosing this — choosing us — was wrong.”

Luke’s brows furrowed at that.

“Not because I regret this,” Din quickly added. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss into Luke’s soft, down-flecked cheek as an apology. A reassurance. He stayed there, pressing his forehead against Luke’s own. “I could never regret you.”

“You don’t feel like this was meant for you,” Luke supplied.

“I’ve never had anything meant just for me in my life,” Din agreed. “It’s — it’s frightening.”

“I know,” said Luke, and Din knew he meant it. “It’s a lot for me, too.”

“How are you so sure? How do you walk on air all the time?”

“It’s a strange side benefit of being in tune with the Force, I guess,” Luke answered. “Every day, I feel the edge of reality constantly floating through my fingers, the universe whispering in my ear — I can’t be scared of anything when I know that if I run and leap off a cliff, I’m going to land on my feet.”

Din huffed. “I can’t say I know what that’s like. Us mortals don’t feel the divine so easily.”

“Then trust me and take the leap,” Luke said, his voice soft as the dawn. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

Once again, Din felt lost. Could love conquer — entirely subsume — fear?

“You promise?” asked Din.

“Always.”

Din knew he wanted to cup his hands around Luke’s face and pull him in to kiss him breathless, but he wasn’t sure who turned them horizontal — whether it was Din himself leaning back or if Luke pressed forward — but he welcomed it all the same. Much the same way he studied anything, Din memorized the way Luke’s lips fit against his own and the way their chests met with every quickened breath.

It occurred to Din that, as Luke reached a hand underneath the back of his head and weaved his fingers through Din’s curls, he didn’t know what to do. Before last night, he’d never kissed anyone; everything ran on pure instinct and need. As he parted his lips ever so slightly and he felt Luke’s tongue slip between them, Din gasped. Luke reared back and Din felt his heart sink.

However, instead of judgment or disappointment, Din only saw amusem*nt on Luke’s face.

“I’m sorry,” Din rasped.

“Never apologize to me,” Luke said, a smile stretching his wet lips. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too far.”

Din shook his head. “I just… the helmet, y’know?”

Luke nodded in that sagely way that Din found both annoying and stupidly endearing. “Naturally. It’s just something we get to practice, then.”

Chuckling, Din reached out a hand to run soothingly over top of Luke’s thigh. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Luke leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Din’s forehead. “I waited to meet you for ages now — I’m not going anywhere.”

Luke climbed off the bed and away from Din’s supine body. It was only then that Din realized he still didn’t have full control of his breathing. He missed Luke’s warmth already.

“’Not going anywhere,’ huh?”

“Well, I can’t be here forever,” Luke said. “Besides, it’s time to start the day — we’re going to send Leia and Han off soon! I’d like you to meet my brother-in-law, too. He’s a great person and I do hope you’ll get along.”

“If he meets your approval, then I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

Grabbing a spare chair from across the room, Luke stood on the seat and reached up to grab the edge of the very vent he’d crawled through to get into Din’s room.

“Secrecy?” Din asked.

“You got it,” Luke answered as he effortlessly lifted himself up into the vent opening. His legs quickly disappeared into the vent, and Din finally stood up to see him off.

“Luke?”

Din heard Luke shuffling around in the vent until his head popped back out of the opening. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Isn’t there an easier way to do this that doesn’t require you to navigate the air ducts? Can’t the Force allow you to walk through walls or something?”

Luke chuckled. “Din, that’s… well, that’s something to think about,” he said. “I’ll have to meditate on that.”

“Seriously?”

“I don’t know of any Jedi that could phase through solid objects — except for ghosts, I suppose,” Luke continued. “But just because other Jedi couldn’t do something doesn’t mean I couldn’t try. Much to think about. See you in a bit!”

And Din, once again, found himself alone in his room — hair sticking up every which way but where it should’ve been and breathless. He needed to get ready for the day, and standing there wishing he were still in bed wouldn’t get him in his armor any faster.

“I’m under strict orders from my wife and brother-in-law to be nice. I am here, with my hands far away from any blaster, and I’m being nice. I will continue to be on my best behavior — please do not put me into carbonite, bounty hunter.”

Din stood there, with his hand outstretched in greeting, confused as to what to do next. He knew Luke wanted them to get along — expected it, actually — and now this. He didn’t even have any caf in his system yet.

When he had walked onto the bridge to greet his guests, he expected something friendly. Celebratory. A little tense but surely a better meeting than what happened the day before. He didn’t expect to see Ahsoka Tano and Leia Organa’s whole family on one side of the bridge; with Boba, Fennec, and Cobb on the other side locked into a strange staring contest. Neither side dared move or speak. The EE-3 carbine rifle sitting across Boba’s lap certainly didn’t escape Din’s notice.

Din wanted to do his best to impress the man that Luke treated as a big brother, a near-hero figure, but it felt as though breathing wrong might set off a bomb. All he could think to do was to build a bridge. It was the diplomatic thing to do, after all.

And now he feels like someone crushed an egg on his face.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Din could only respond.

“Han, that’s a king of a planet — shake the man’s hand,” Leia hissed from her seat in the hoverchair. “He also graciously took us in despite the murder attempt. You can be nice.”

“Honey,” the man — Han — said through gritted teeth, “I’m doing my best to be cordial while trying not to die.”

Din dropped his hand. He looked over at Luke, too busy cradling his face in his hands out of shame to intervene. It seemed as though he’d be going it alone on this round.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” asked Din.

“No!” Leia hissed. “I’m sorry for my husband — this is Han Solo, and he’s not normally this much of an ass.”

“General Han Solo, captain of the Millennium Falcon,” Han corrected. “Legendary smuggler who ran the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs.”

Din could almost hear the words coming out of his mouth before he said them, but he couldn’t stop them, even if he tried.

“Parsecs are a measurement of distance, not time,” Din said. “That doesn’t make any sense. Can you walk to a town in two klicks instead of three?”

A smattering of laughter erupted on Din’s other side. Han’s face fell, and Din knew he should at once stop and apologize, but he glanced over to Leia and saw her muffling her own amusem*nt.

“C’mon, guy — everyone knows that the shortest route through the Kessel Run is almost impossible,” Han said, his face contorting into a sneer. “Besides, you bounty hunter types should definitely know me. Your pal over there sure does.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Din saw Boba’s hand clutching around the grip of his rifle.

“Never heard of you.”

“Jabba the Hutt had a half-million credit bounty on my head!” Han shouted. “I was famous in all the scum circles!”

“For what, crimes against mathematics?”

The giggles turned into full-on laughter.

“Han Solo! Guy with the Wookiee first mate!” Han continued, counting on his fingers to make his case. “Ran afoul of the Crimson Dawn, the Hutt Syndicate, and the Galactic Empire, all in one year!”

“I’m very happy for you.”

At that point, even Leia couldn’t stop herself from bursting out into the same sort of high-pitched cackling that Luke found himself in when something truly got to him. Despite not looking anything like one another, Din found the similarities altogether too eerie.

“Or I’m sorry?” Din added. “I don’t know how to respond to dignitaries very well; my scum circles only taught me so much.”

Han sat down in the nearest chair with a loud humph, the only way Din figured he knew how to express his displeasure. Looking back over to Luke, he noticed Luke smiling — but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I apologize,” Din added, sticking his hand out once again. “It’s good to meet you. I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to meet in better circ*mstances.”

Han looked at Din’s outstretched hand and, very slowly, took Din’s hand in his own.

“Thanks for taking care of Leia while we were out,” Han grumbled.

“Is everyone else alright?” Din asked. As soon as Boba stood up, Din realized he probably shouldn’t have asked that question.

“This is the bastard that knocked me into the Pit of Carkoon,” Boba growled out. The rest of the crew, in a show of solidarity Din had never seen from them before, stood up with him. “I ought to string him up by his little toes and skin him alive.”

Din turned to his crew. “Wait, really?”

Luke spoke up at last. “I told you that story, right?”

That was over a month ago, but Din recalled the story — it was before they arrived on Tatooine. “You did; I’ve slept since then.”

“Man, it was an accident,” Han interrupted. “I was blind — because you put me into carbonite, by the way — and I couldn’t see where I was going. I didn’t even know you were there!”

“Han, I still think it would be kind to apologize,” Luke said.

“Thank you, Skywalker,” Boba growled. “At least one of you’s got some f*cking manners.”

“And where’s the apology for Han getting frozen for almost a year?” Leia interjected. “They kept him frozen for so long that they used him as decor in that sh*tty throne room!”

“Alright, alright,” Din said, trying to smooth things over.

“A contractor’s not responsible for the merchandise once it’s left their hands and into the hands of the contract holder,” Boba continued. “It was up to Jabba’s discretion what they did with the slab.”

“And that just makes it alright?” Leia spat.

“You killed Jabba the Hutt,” said Fennec, moving closer to Boba’s side. “An incredible task, and one that should make anything that happened between you and Lord Fett square.”

Han huffed. “’Lord Fett’ now, is it? What, you take over the old slug’s game? You think you’re going to be any better than the Hutts?”

Cobb raised his hand. “I can speak to that — he abolished the slave trade on Tatooine, and he put the Pyke Syndicate under his heel. My man here’s done a lot of good in the short time he’s closed up the power vacuum.”

“C’mon, everyone,” Luke groaned. “Can we stop with the pissing contest already?”

“That doesn’t erase all the awful sh*t we went through,” Leia continued. “He put me in a stupid bikini with a chain around me!”

“Sarlacc acid ate off most of my skin,” Boba retorted. “I think you were fine, Princess.”

“The acid did you some favors, clearly,” Han spat back.

Din shot a glance over to a nearby dashboard. The endless switches and buttons called to him, tempted him into triggering an alarm. Anything to get them to shut the hell up for a second. He slowly reached over towards a particularly large, loud-looking button when a wail cut through all the background noise.

The rest of the bridge fell into silence. Everyone’s eyes turned towards Leia, watching as her face melted into a soft and pleading expression while rocking the crying infant. The other child, somehow knowing it wasn’t receiving enough attention, began to cry, as well. Ahsoka, without skipping a beat, picked up the child from its cradle and imitated Leia’s movements. A pang of loneliness struck Din’s own heart as he remembered the first time he held Grogu in his arms — long before he’d ever learned the child’s name, before he even knew what the kid could do — and he held back a sigh.

Looking around the room, Din thought that everyone else lost the wind out of their sails, too.

“I will not make a child fatherless if I can help it,” Boba grumbled at last. “Remember this the next time you run off to do something stupid.”

Before Din could say a word to him, Boba turned on his heel and headed for the bridge’s main exit. Fennec silently followed after him.

“Remember what?” Han called out.

Boba stopped. “A man who had every reason to shoot you dead cared more about your family than you did,” he said, only bothering to look over his shoulder. “Grow up and act like you have some goddamned sense in your head.”

Without another word, Boba and Fennec both exited the bridge. An uneasy silence fell over the room. Din looked back over to Luke, who could only offer an unsurprised, knowing huff in response. Maybe he and Han had something in common, Din figured — everyone else seemed to know both of their shortcomings without either of them realizing.

“Well, that’s me told,” Han snarked, a smirk on his face. Han’s eyes darted around the room, almost as though he wanted someone to agree with him. No one did.

Din wondered if Han was used to the opposite — if people normally laughed along with him whenever he got in a funny quip or brushed off criticism with a snappy remark. The crumpled expression that replaced Han’s smirk seemed to confirm Din’s suspicion.

Even Luke could barely look him in the eye. Din almost felt sorry for Han.

Almost.

“Fine, I’m sorry!” Han said at last, throwing his hands up in the air. “I give up, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry that sh*t went sideways and I’m sorry that we’re all still sore over this years later. I’m the one that owed money to Jabba in the first place, so I guess it’s on me. I’m sorry.”

Cobb snorted. Paz could barely contain his laughter.

“What’s it to you?” Han spat.

Leia reached over and poked Han in the thigh from her seat. “That’s the man that delivered your children, you ass. The big one cooked all the food.”

“It’s fine, ma’am,” Cobb answered. “He’s lashing out ‘cause he’s sore. That’s all.”

“Your husband didn’t like hearing about himself, and then apologized to the air. What’s not funny about that?” asked Paz.

“I think Han’s had enough, you guys,” Luke said, standing up and slowly stepping between the two halves of the room. “He’s got a lot to think about — right, Din?”

Din’s head snapped forward. It’d been a while since anyone had acknowledged his presence. He missed that feeling.

“Skywalker’s right,” Din added quickly. “Besides, Solo and Senator Organa are our guests — let’s not be poor hosts.”

Paz stood up from his seat and nodded towards the rest of the room. “Then by our guests’ leave, I’ll go find something better to occupy my time with,” he sniffed. With a curt nod, Paz left the bridge.

“As for me, I’m having a good time watching this play out,” Cobb said, his grin wide as ever. “Unless Mr. General-Captain-Whatsit over there’s got a problem.”

“He doesn’t,” Leia said.

Han moved to stand behind his wife’s hoverchair. “Now that we’ve all met, shook hands, apologized, whatever, can we get going? We need to get this one and the babies to an actual doctor — no offense, Cop Man.”

“None taken,” Cobb said with a wave.

Leia placed her hand on Han’s own, motioning him to slow down. “We’re very grateful for everything,” she said. “Is there anything we can do to support your mission? I can’t guarantee funding, but if there’s any sort of material aid we can provide, please let me know?”

“You’re officially on maternity leave,” Han said. “Please tell me you’re not checking messages or going into the office.”

Leia huffed. “Like that could stop me. Just shoot me a message, Luke? And please stay in touch more — I don’t want to come hunt you down again.”

“I’ll do better,” Luke agreed. “How about I come to the Falcon with you? It’ll be good to see the old girl again. Chewie already out there?”

“He’s doing maintenance checks,” Han said.

Luke nodded. “Auntie, is there anything you need from the ship? I can bring it back here when I return.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “No need — go enjoy your family, Luke. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Din watched as Luke shuffled off the bridge with Leia, Han, and the twins in tow. Out of the corner of his eye, Din saw Luke mouthing a soft ‘thank you’ before turning back to his sister and brother-in-law. Din only smiled back — he didn’t think the thanks were necessary, but he’d take the win.

“It’s a shame,” Ahsoka sniffed. “We could have Fett and Solo fight it out — two men, two knives, no one leaves until the other gives up or dies.”

Cobb shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am; I can’t do that again. We already had a duel on this journey and my heart can’t handle another. I have delicate nerves. Y’all are going to have to talk this out, or don’t come running to me when you need something stitched up.”

Ahsoka turned to Din. “Really?”

“I’ll catch you up later,” Din said.

“Why don’t we catch up now?” Ahsoka said. “Matter of fact, I think we have a lot to discuss. You have a private space somewhere on this ship?”

Din swallowed. He didn’t like that tone when they first met, and he had the distinct feeling that whatever they were going to talk about, he probably wouldn’t like.

“Would you like to discuss this in my quarters?” Din asked. He caught himself. “I don’t mean that in a weird way — I meant— “

“I understood what you meant,” Ahsoka said, a soft, knowing smile already gracing her lips. “Lead the way, won’t you?”

Din opened the door of his quarters and Ahsoka swept into the room, her poncho sweeping out in her wake. Hearing a flutter of wings off to his right, Din turned his head and saw Ibis flying towards him. Din stretched out his forearm, hoping to intercept Ibis on his vambrace instead of having Ibis’ talons dig into the soft meat of his shoulder.

“A convor?” Ahsoka said as Din walked into the room, Ibis perched on his vambrace. “When did you pick him up?”

“Back on Despayre,” Din answered. “Luke found him in an Imperial prison. He’s been with us ever since — he’s very sweet.”

“Convorees are wonderful friends,” Ahsoka agreed. “I know one much like him — we had to part ways, but I miss her all the time.”

Din paused to run a gloved finger over Ibis’ head, ruffling the little feathers there. He trilled and wrapped his prehensile tail around Din’s forearm. Din couldn’t help but chuckle. Ahsoka did, as well.

Waving his other hand towards the seating area, Din motioned for Ahsoka to take a seat. He joined her, taking a seat in the opposite chair from the sofa she sat on.

“He really likes you,” Ahsoka said. “They don’t make friends with a lot of people; you ought to feel honored.”

Din scoffed. “He likes me because I feed him.”

Ahsoka stretched out her hands and Ibis launched himself off Din’s forearm to meet her. She held him in her hands carefully, locking eyes with the convor as he nestled into her hold. Had Din never seen Ahsoka and Grogu look at each other much the same way, he’d guess it was just curiosity.

“Is he saying something to you?” asked Din.

“Not in the same way Grogu might, nothing so complex,” Ahsoka said. “They’re more like images and bits of emotion — brief flashes of the moments he was with you or Luke. Or both.” She paused for a moment, as though lost in thought. “You and Luke share a very strong bond. I see why Master was so keen to make sure you two stayed together through this.”

“By ‘Master’ you mean…?”

“Anakin Skywalker,” Ahsoka supplied. “When I was a Padawan learner, the Jedi Council assigned me to Master Skywalker during the Clone Wars. I fought at his side right up until I chose to leave the Order.”

That information didn’t seem to surprise him, though he wasn’t sure why. “I assume he still talks to you?” asked Din.

“On occasion,” Ahsoka said. “My master was a brother to me, despite, well, everything. It’s why Luke and Leia both call me ‘Auntie’. The Jedi are a family, always.”

Din nodded. Being with the Covert for most of his life, the connection made sense. Paz was as much of a brother to him as any that might’ve come from his biological parents. Perhaps the Jedi had a lot more in common with the Children of the Watch than he knew. Luke might not know much about that, but Ahsoka might.

However, something still bothered him.

“You still claim that asshole as your brother?”

Ahsoka sighed. “Unfortunately, his past can’t erase the love that was there. A rather tragic consequence of loving someone is that you don’t just love one person — we all exist in infinite permutations, a new version of us created fractally with every new moment.”

“Which one was your Anakin, then?” asked Din.

“A fantastic question,” Ahsoka said. “Did I love the brother that took me under his wing and raised me as his own blood? Did I love the general that kept me safe during a galactic war?”

“Did you love Darth Vader,” Din finished. A twinge crossed Ahsoka’s face. Din never left the quiet part unsaid if he could help it.

“Would you be upset with me if I said yes?”

“I’d sooner ask you what is wrong with you, but I suppose you wouldn’t say something like that unless you thought you had a good enough reason.”

“You’ve been around Luke for quite a while now,” Ahsoka said, her smile widening. “You’re right. When I said that you don’t love just one person, I meant it — you love all of them. I understand Anakin’s sins are far greater than you or I could ever comprehend, and much like Luke, I often find it hard to reconcile the Anakin I loved with his Sith turn. The moment I realized what he became, I thought my heart was going to rip itself in two.”

“Did you feel like his choices tainted you, too?”

Ahsoka nodded. “I felt responsible, almost. Like I deserved to die to make up for the pain he caused. With every new report of his utter depravity, that grief threatened to swallow me whole. If you ask Master Kenobi, he might tell you the same.”

Something clicked for Din. “That’s why they’re not talking.”

“You’re on the right path,” Ahsoka said. She chewed on her bottom lip. “It’s related, but I’ll leave that for you and Luke to discuss. Besides, that’s what I really wanted to talk to you about.”

Din arched an eyebrow. “I talk to Luke every day.”

“I just want you to be prepared for whatever might come for us,” Ahsoka pressed. “This journey’s going to change the both of you. It’s already changed you into something I barely recognize from the man I met back on Corvus.”

“And what’s that?”

“A king.”

Din rolled his shoulders back before he could stop himself.

“Look, you even feel it in your body — you stand straighter than you used to,” Ahsoka said. “Luke is going to change, too. I need you to promise to love him through all of that.”

“How did…?”

Ahsoka tilted her head towards Ibis. “He notices a hell of a lot more than you think. The emotions he relayed to me — goodness, Din.”

Din felt altogether far too vulnerable and embarrassed. Betrayed, even. Heat began to rise from his cowl and up the sides of his jaw. He couldn’t even meet Ahsoka’s eyes.

She held her hand up. “I get it, it’s new. We can pretend we never had this conversation. Just be careful with one another, alright?”

Din let out a breath. “And if Luke somehow shifts into something unrecognizable, like his father did?”

“Then you’re going to have to make a decision,” Ahsoka answered. “I won’t lie and say that I have it figured out. I just know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“It was fear and hatred that killed all my Anakins and made him into Darth Vader, but it was love that brought him back in the end,” said Ahsoka. She gave him one last smile before standing up and heading for the door of Din’s quarters.

“Hey, Ahsoka?” Din asked.

“Yes?”

“Someone told me that the Jedi didn’t allow romantic relationships. Am I hurting Luke for wanting this?”

Ahsoka nodded. “Your source is right — attachment is forbidden. The texts say that attachment is greed, a greed that consumes you and clouds your judgment. It doesn’t explicitly forbid romance, but the Jedi Order usually discouraged such bonds. Besides, those sorts of things got in the way of our missions. Many of our itinerant Jedi went years — decades, even — without seeing another member of our Order.”

“So, I should let whatever this is with Luke go? So he can continue on his path?”

She simply shrugged. “Luke is the new Grandmaster of the Order. He can make whatever new rules he wants.”

“…What?”

“I was never technically made a full Jedi Knight before I left,” Ahsoka answered. “Luke Skywalker is the previous Grandmaster’s final student, and he knighted Luke before he passed. After nearly singlehandedly taking down the Emperor and his second-in-command, not a single Jedi left alive would ever challenge him for the title. Did he not tell you that?”

Din huffed. “He said he was rebuilding the Order. Didn’t say anything about that.”

“I like it,” she said. “It feels right to have a living Master Skywalker in the galaxy again.”

“I think he’d sooner die than have you call him that,” said Din.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Anyway, if you’re asking for my blessing, you have it. I’d like to see an Order that tries something different. Thinks a little bit more critically about our relationship to the material world.”

“Do you think Luke can do it better? That the Jedi were wrong for eschewing attachment?” asked Din.

Ahsoka almost looked offended. “Not remotely close. The first Master Skywalker fell for that trap and everyone else paid the price for it. He tried to have his cake and eat it, too. But you know who could tell you better than I could?”

“Luke?”

“The very man,” Ahsoka agreed. “For what it’s worth, if the Order blows up because you two are just too cute of a couple, well, at least you’ll only have destroyed an Order of two.”

Ahsoka chuckled as Din shooed her out of his quarters at last.

The day after Leia, Han, Chewie, and the twins left Valinor, the crew of the Tantive IV finally left the snow-covered planet for their next location.

Wherever that might be.

Din hoped Luke and Ahsoka had answers. He’d heard them talking in whispers this morning, their back-and-forth putting an unexpected smile on Din’s face. He loved that Luke didn’t have to feel so alone anymore. Maybe between himself and Ahsoka, they could both keep Luke afloat during this journey into pure insanity. It felt strange to even admit that Luke might need support, but after what happened with the Living Force, the uncomfortable realization that Luke was mortal hit Din like a meteor.

It hurt. He never wanted to see Luke so vulnerable and so… human. But if he had to choose between the divine force of nature he’d met at the beginning of this journey or the soft creature in his bed that curled into Din’s body for warmth, he’d choose the latter every time.

That thought put a smile on his face as he stepped through the door leading to the empty storage bay in the belly of the ship. He’d discovered this place after studying the schematics of the ship and, after a little personal reconnaissance mission, decided it would serve well as a practice ring. With everything they’d been through, it seemed impossible to find time to just exist on his own — with an ever-increasing crew size, those chances seemed to disappear.

Now, with things somewhat settled, it seemed as good a time as any to get back into practice. Din figured that once they reached the relative safety of hyperspace, he might finally have some time to himself. It had been too long since he used the muscles he’d earned from a hard life on the proverbial road. At least not since his fight with Paz, which felt like an age ago.

Finding a nearby crate, Din began to slowly take off his armor — meditatively, as his Fightmaster taught him. With every piece he removed, Din thanked it for its relentless service. Unlatching his cuisses, he remembered the vibroknives they deflected from his femoral arteries. Setting his vambraces down next to the cuisses, the heat of Ahsoka’s lightsabers crashing down on him felt as real now as it did then. His pauldrons, cuirass, and flak jacket joined them — along with the stinging sensation of blaster fire hitting the beskar plates, the kinetic energy still pounding into his body despite the plasma dissipating on the plate surface. His gauntlets carried the residual feeling of knocking away throwing knives and striking out at any foe that stood in his way. Finally, he took off his helmet — the very thing that saved his life countless times, the screen that hid him from the rest of the galaxy — and set it down.

With all of his armor set off to the side, Din stood in the middle of the room wearing only his underblacks, his flight suit bottoms, and his boots. It felt good to be free of the armor, even for just a moment. He took a deep breath, and for the first time in a long time, he felt his lungs fill completely without his muscles straining against all his armor and padding, against all of his fears and worries. He felt centered.

Ever since he found the kid, Din never really found the chance to practice his forms. In his previous life, he would run through just about every kata his muscles remembered — bevii’ragir, kad, even gan’akaan in the galley of his ship. Back in his Fighting Corps days, his instructors would have him practice multiple forms until he got them right according to their exacting standards. Fightmaster Kre’vik loved correcting a cadet’s form with a swift crack of his corded rod, a sound Din still can’t hear without wanting to flinch.

Every angle, every strike had to be precise and meaningful. Every breath needed to be in time with its correlated movement. What used to be pain and torment turned into routine, which became security, which became a part of his very being. Getting back into practice wasn’t only good for his body, it felt like a prayer.

Luckily for him, Paz had a rudimentary bokken from his days of training younglings back on Nevarro stashed away in his things. With a bit of jeering, Paz agreed to lend it to him on the provision that Din take his next turn at the cookstation for dinner. That same bokken in hand, Din swung it through the air to test the weight and feel of it. Sure as anything, it felt about the same as any wooden sword he’d ever held in training — but absolutely nothing like holding the Darksaber.

So it was.

Settling into the formal kneeling pose that almost every kata began with, the bokken at his side, Din closed his eyes and slowed his breathing down until he could find a steady rhythm. He tempered his excitement and tried to find the very bottom of his feelings, that bedrock of stability. Fightmaster Orisha, in all of her infinite wisdom, used to say that a kata isn’t just movement for the sake of movement, it’s a way to save your own life. If a warrior found themselves deaf, blind, and pinned down with the enemy on all sides, they could still fight their way through and live another day. The best kata, then, was the one where the warrior felt everything else fall away. Nothing else but the fight in front of you remained.

Din tried to make his mind a complete blank — a skill that became much easier as he grew older. He always imagined a black ocean, endless and vast, with only steady, small waves pulsing across its surface. His ritual, once he found that image, was to allow himself to fully disappear in the water. If he could imagine fighting through water, Orisha said, then he could put all of his weight behind every strike and still feel like he could do more.

He began to fall. He could almost feel the cold, numb sensation going up from the bottoms of his feet to the narrow of his waist. Din allowed himself to sink into the dark sensation, feeling altogether uncomfortable and familiar. However, before he could allow the water to fully overcome him, a bright light cut across his vision and his eyes flew open.

Nothing was there. Din’s heart raced.

Closing his eyes once more, Din tried to get back to his black ocean and found it grey, the white foam spreading out in strange patterns. He shook his head, confused.

“Din? Is this your mind?”

“Luke?” Din thought, barely stopping himself from responding aloud. “How…?”

“I don’t know,” Luke answered. Din couldn’t see Luke in his mind’s eye, but he could feel his presence and hear his voice as clear as if he were standing right next to him. “The Force truly does work in strange ways. Is Ibis with you?”

“No,” Din said. “Is this because of him, you think?”

“Perhaps. Do you meditate often?”

“I don’t meditate, I focus. I’m no Jedi.”

“It takes many years for a Jedi to create such vivid images they can alter at will. But we’ll play it your way.”

“How did you get here, anyway?”

“Unlike you, I was meditating.”

“Smartass.”

“Do you often imagine the ocean at night, Din?”

Din had never thought about it too hard. It was a fall back, a reliable image to create the right headspace. It wasn’t something he lingered on.

“Just when I’m practicing. How do you practice your swordfighting forms?”

“Much in the same way you do — but I don’t imagine oceans.”

“What do you think about?”

“Do you want to see?”

Before Din could answer either way, he suddenly found himself not on the edge of a beach at night, but in the middle of a vast, empty desert, the sky bluer than blue. The sand shifted underneath his feet and the skin on the back of his neck felt hot already. Above him, two suns bore down on him like an invisible hand crushing him into the sand below.

Tatooine.

Shuffling his feet, Din turned around to find Luke standing on a distant dune, dressed all in white — a simple tunic and pants. His lightsaber ignited, Luke looked out towards the distance and waited. Din slowly made his way towards Luke’s position. As he took to the dune’s slopes, his boots fought for traction with every step. He hated this damn planet. It almost felt as though no matter how hard he tried to climb the dune, Luke never seemed to get any closer. Frustrated, Din took off running and hoped that his momentum would finally get him up the slope.

Finally getting to the top of the dune’s ridge, Din stopped to take a breath. He looked out in the direction of Luke’s stare, and he felt his blood run cold. Beyond Luke, a massive wall of sand hurtled towards them — the sheer size of it blocked out the horizon for miles in either direction. He couldn’t feel the wind that carried the sand, but he knew that the moment the storm bore down on them both, it would suck the breath right from his lungs. Din fell to his knees.

“Luke!”

He blinked, and Din found himself back at the shore of his ocean.

“I’m sorry if that was too much,” Luke said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Din felt his shoulders collapse. “Is this what it’s like for you all the time?”

“Just about. Is that… is that too much?”

Something different swelled up inside him. “Not at all. I want to know the man who can face down a storm and not flinch.”

He could hear Luke laugh in the distance. “You already know me, Din.”

“I meant to know as in to fight,” Din said, shouting up into the grey of his own sky. “Come spar with me. Can you do that here? Do you need to come down here in person?”

Din turned and found Luke standing on his beach, the waves lapping at their bare feet. Luke didn’t have a weapon in his hand, but Din didn’t mind. He also knew better than to underestimate him — even though Din stood a couple inches taller than Luke and had a bit more heft to his upper body, Luke had a lower center of gravity and plenty of muscle of his own. Even beyond his abilities, Luke could easily be a challenge on his own.

Was it the thrill of the chase? Was it the unknown entity of a challenge — the kind of challenge he was, for all intents and purposes, trained to fight his entire life? Was there something wrong with him, only recognizing affinity and affection in someone who could commit as much violence as him? Did he just love danger? Was he addicted to fear?

Was he afraid of Luke? Was he just trying to find a way to overcome it?

He couldn’t put his finger on it, so he slid into a simple boxing stance and waited for Luke to approach him. Luke, however, didn’t move.

“Are you sure about this?”

“If I said it, I meant it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Luke said. “We could try training with the Darksaber, instead. If you just want to stretch your muscles, surely we could do something easier.”

Din sniffed. “I’m not fragile. Hit me with everything you have.”

The grey sky above him suddenly broke into that same bluer-than-blue of Tatooine. The tide of the ocean — the very ocean Din thought he could control — ebbed away from the shore and receded gradually. Din could do nothing but stare at the disappearing shoreline and the swelling ocean. His feet wouldn’t move.

“Do you understand now? The difference between us? You don’t want to do this, Din.”

Din felt slighted. “Fight me like you mean it! Show me who you are, Jedi!”

“So, that’s how it’s to be,” said Luke. “Then brace yourself, Mandalorian.”

“Come.”

Luke didn’t answer, acknowledging him with only a nod. Luke’s form — Din wasn’t sure if this was Luke’s spirit, or just an image of Luke in his imagination — began to move towards him. Din braced himself, putting his forearms up in front of his chest to guard against whatever attack Luke might bring.

The moment Luke reached the inside of Din’s striking distance, Din decided not to wait and struck out with a left jab — both to put Luke off-guard and test Luke’s own striking distance. Luke, however, didn’t take the bait. Instead, Luke moved just slightly to the inside of Din’s outstretched arm and placed a well-aimed punch square in Din’s solar plexus. As Din hunched over, struggling to get the air back into his lungs, he wondered if Luke was always that fast or if Din was simply too slow.

Luke reached out for Din, but Din batted him away and staggered backwards. His ass landed in the sand and the impact of his body on the ground made it even harder for Din to catch his breath. Luke, however, knelt down next to him and took Din’s hand in his own.

“Look at me and breathe in, count to four,” Luke said, his voice low and soothing. “Hold that in for seven, release until you count to eight.”

Din did as he was told. The first few breaths still hurt, but during the third cycle, it no longer felt like a massive struggle. Luke still didn’t let go of his hand.

“I don’t remember the last time I got hit there,” Din said, letting his body relax. “Did you have to punch me so hard?”

“Only when my lover asks me not to hold back,” Luke answered. He pressed a kiss to the back of Din’s hand. “When you’re done in the storage bay, come up to the galley for dinner. Ahsoka and I plan to brief everyone there on where we’re going next.”

When Din blinked, Luke was gone — but the wave that Luke created finally reached the shore and loomed over Din’s supine body, ready to crash into him and carry him out to sea. Din shook his head and woke up.

Nothing changed in the storage bay except his perspective — the bay’s fluorescent lights threatened to burn holes into his eyes and his legs felt numb from the strange way they remained tucked underneath his body. As he slowly lifted himself up from his position on the ground, Din rubbed at the sore spot underneath his ribcage and felt himself fall a little harder in love.

He had so much more to learn, and so little time to do it.

“Since we picked up Ahsoka ahead of schedule, we’re adjusting the plan,” Luke began. “We’re now heading towards an uncharted planet called Tanalorr.”

Din hardly reacted as he tucked into the savory meat and vegetable stew Ahsoka made (well, directed — she’d somehow recruited both Cobb and Boba to peel potatoes and carrots enough to fill the biggest bowls in the galley). They served it inside small, hollowed-out loaves of bread, which Din found both useful and efficient.

“Did you hear us, Your Majesty?” Ahsoka asked.

Din looked up from his food. “I do not have an emotional reaction to a place I’ve never heard of, if I’m honest. Wherever you want to go is fine. Hopefully whoever we’re going to find there doesn’t intend to kill us.”

Luke chuckled. “I know we’ve been dragging everyone over Hell’s half-parsec, but this is the last stop before Mandalore. Besides, I’d wager you hadn’t heard about this planet because it’s completely hidden.”

“Where’s it hidden?” Fennec prodded. “If it’s in the Outer Rim, I would’ve heard of it.”

“It’s in the Koboh region, located inside a nebula,” answered Luke.

Din recognized the name during his travels; Koboh served as a bit of a waypoint for bounty hunters, but he’d never had a reason to stop there, personally. He’d also heard rumors that the Empire ran a small operation out there, but that wasn’t uncommon in the Outer Rim. At their height, almost every habitable planet had some garrison or outpost on it.

“I’ve been to Koboh before,” said Boba. “And I remember an abyss in the local area. Hunted a bounty there. It wasn’t too much work. Someone else got to her first…” he trailed off, lost in a memory.

“Something the matter?” asked Paz.

“It was a young Jedi that did all the hard work, as I recall,” Boba continued. “Ran into him back almost eighteen years ago, so long before you and I crossed paths, Skywalker. If he were still alive, he’d be in his forties. Maybe about my age.”

Luke and Ahsoka looked at each other before looking back at Boba. “Do you remember his name?”

“Never got a name,” Boba said. “He wasn’t a target, he was just some young upstart that got caught in the Haxion Brood’s crosshairs. Lucky for him, the woman he fought that day was worth more to my employer than he was.”

“What did he look like?” asked Cobb.

Boba sighed, dropping his spoon down into his stew. “I think… he had bright red hair. That’s right. Red hair and a scar across his nose.”

Din stood up so fast that his chair clattered and skidded behind him. The rest of the table turned towards Din.

“You think that’s the same guy?” Bo-Katan asked. “Sounds almost too good to be true.”

“That’s how the Force works, right?” Din demanded, looking right at Luke. “It’s leading us back to my kid.”

Luke only gave him a big, brilliant smile in return. Something inside Din’s chest felt lighter than it had in ages.

Paz coughed. “I missed something here. Someone mind explaining?”

“When we confronted Moff Gideon and his crew of Dark Troopers on the Imperial Star Destroyer, some Jedi in a weird luxury yacht ship pulled up and saved all of our asses from getting melted into nothing,” Fennec supplied. “He had a couple of people helping him, but they hung back while the Jedi met us in the co*ckpit and took the kid to train him. We didn’t get a name at the time, but he had red hair and a scar. He gave Din a comm code for the ship, but when we tried it a few days later, we couldn’t get through.”

“If they were hiding in a nebula, guess that explains it,” added Cobb. “Nebulas interfere with radio waves.”

“It has to be him,” Din said. “How do we get to Tanalorr?”

“Lucky for us, I got a hold of some very interesting information during my travels,” Ahsoka said, pulling a datastick from her belt. “These are the coordinates and codes I got from a member of the Hidden Path. I think this is going to be a very useful expedition for many reasons.”

“The Hidden Path?” asked Luke. “Ah, I see. That is interesting.”

Ahsoka patted Luke’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about — I think you’ll find yourself very popular.”

“I’m getting real tired of being the one asking for clarification here,” Paz interjected.

“I gotcha, big man,” Cobb said. “The Hidden Path is the secret organization that got the Jedi that managed to escape the Empire out of harm’s way, bouncing them to random places all over the Galaxy to get them to a place where no one could ever find them. Over time, their mission expanded to the poor souls that were born with Jedi powers, or whatever it is y’all call ‘em. I forget what they called themselves, but they used to have people in the Empire that hunted down anyone even suspected of being a Jedi. Hell, the bounty hunters in our company ought to recall how much the Empire was willing to pay for little guys like your youngin’, Din.”

A hush fell over the room.

“You’re more well-informed than I would’ve expected from a small-town marshal, Cobb Vanth,” Ahsoka said. “You’re very much correct. They called the Jedi hunters the ‘Inquisitorius’ — former Jedi or Jedi students forced to hunt their former allies and family.”

Cobb nodded. “A long time ago, before I’d escaped my own situation, we’d heard about a group of people that were smuggling people off-planet. Near about the time you’re talking about, Boba? Heard there were a bunch of those Inquisitor people out in Anchorhead. They found a Jedi, killed him, and strung him up as a warning. sh*t was serious business.”

Luke sighed. “That spooked my folks really bad when it happened. I never knew why until… well.”

Din noticed a shadow cross Luke’s face. He knew exactly what Luke meant.

“So, this planet is supposed to be the end of the Hidden Path?” Din asked, trying to shift the conversation. “Is it really that safe? Do you know what it’s like?”

Ahsoka nodded. “Not only is it beyond reach of the ships without a code, they say that the planet itself is imbued with the Force. It’s practically a haven for Force-sensitives. If we’re supposed to be meeting your red-haired Jedi that has Grogu, then I know he’s been perfectly happy there.”

“Not to rain on your festival, but we’re going to be showing up unannounced on a heavily protected planet with a population of highly traumatized warriors that may or may not know that the Empire’s defeated. Do you think that’s going to go well?” asked Bo-Katan. “Is there any way to contact them aside from your… abilities?”

Din shot her a look of exhaustion, but Ahsoka shrugged.

“It’s not a bad point,” Ahsoka said. “But no, aside from the codes, we don’t have a way of proving our identity. But, seeing as how several ships have made their way through the Abyss before, I don’t see how we’ll be treated any differently. Besides, we have Master Skywalker here — right?” Ahsoka wrapped her arm around Luke and pulled him in close as though to show him off. “They can’t hate us if we have him!”

Luke and Ahsoka laughed, but Din could tell there was something uneasy in the way Luke looked — as though Luke was unsure of something. He’d have to ask him later.

“We’ll do it your way,” Bo-Katan acquiesced. “But if they start firing on us, I’m raining hellfire on them; I don’t care if they’re precious Jedi or whatever.”

“Glad we’re in this luxury diplomat vehicle, then,” Fennec said. “Hate to see you in an actual Mandalorian war vehicle if that’s your route to diplomacy, Princess.”

Bo-Katan stood up from the table, her bread already gone and nary a drop of stew left behind. “I’m not rising to your challenge, Fennec — see, I’m improving.” She picked up her plate and cup, swanning out of the room without another word.

Din pointed at Fennec, then in the general direction of Bo-Katan, and then back at Fennec. Fennec only mouthed something that Din recognized to be, “I’ll kill you”, so he dropped his hand and turned his attention back to Luke.

“The navcomputer says we’ll arrive at Koboh in less than a day, so please get your rest and I’ll see you at the beginning of day cycle,” Luke said. “Thank you for your time!”

As the rest of the crew filtered out elsewhere — some remaining in the mess hall, others going towards the berthing to turn in for the night — Din managed to catch Luke’s eye and motioned for Luke to join him elsewhere. Luke nodded and led them both to the captain’s quarters. Din wordlessly followed.

Once inside, Luke pressed a hand to the sore spot under Din’s cuirass; Din hissed as the pressure made the pain radiate outwards. It distracted him from what he wanted to talk about with Luke in the first place.

“I thought so, but I didn’t think it was possible,” Luke muttered as he stared at Din’s midsection. “I didn’t think I would’ve actually hurt you in that state. I’m so sorry, Din. I think I was a little too excited.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Luke,” Din said, tipping Luke’s chin up and guiding him to meet Din’s eyes. “I’m fine. I’ve been through much worse.”

“Still, it doesn’t excuse anything,” Luke continued, undeterred. “It isn’t exactly a loving relationship where one person injures the other.”

“You know, in traditional Mandalorian sects, a courtship begins with a duel,” Din said. “A partner should be strong and battle-tested. I never saw a marriage in the covert that didn’t begin with a little bloodshed. The last one required a tourniquet.”

Luke looked as though he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“If it makes you feel better, I asked for it. Besides, I… I think I enjoyed it.”

Luke only stared at him for a moment, looking utterly bewildered, before bursting out in a loud laugh. “What? You enjoyed the pain, the fear? What was it?”

“Not quite,” Din said. He shook his head. He wasn’t sure how to articulate it, but he knew how he felt, anyway. “I liked… the feeling of the fight with someone I can’t ever beat, but even more than that, I liked the feeling that that same person cares for me. There’s a wall between me and the rest of the galaxy, a storm that I’m in the eye of.”

“You mean that even though I threw you around like a ragdoll and took over your mindscape that you still felt… protected?” asked Luke, unsure.

“You’ve never scared me, Luke,” Din confirmed. He reached his hand towards Luke’s and took hold of it. “If anything, I admire you more. A man that can face what you face every time you close your eyes and still care more about a little bruise than himself? That’s the man I love.”

Luke beamed. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

Before Din could tell Luke that he meant every single word of what he said or that it was easy to love a man like him, Luke pulled Din in for another mind-searing kiss. His diaphragm hurt from the sudden change in breathing, but Din pushed it aside. Din put his hand against the wall above their heads to keep himself steady as Luke deepened the kiss. This time, Din didn’t pull back or show any hesitation — he simply let Luke take the lead.

When Luke finally broke them apart, Din felt just a little bit dizzy — from the lack of air or from the blood rushing elsewhere, he wasn’t sure. From their proximity, he could hardly see the irises of Luke’s eyes, he could feel Luke’s shuddering breath against his skin. It felt harder to breathe. When he’d realized his feelings for Luke, he’d never even considered getting close enough to ever kiss him, much less what might occur if they wanted to…

Gods above, he couldn’t even think about sleeping with Luke without wanting to pass out. Maybe he was getting too old for this sh*t.

“I… I think we should end it here before we get a little too far into whatever we’re doing,” Luke whispered. Their faces still lingered right next to each other, their lips still almost touching. “It’s just… with everyone else running around and all — “

“You don’t have to explain,” Din said, his voice a little more gravelly than he intended. “Besides, it seems rather uncouth to jump right into bed with each other. I’m an old-fashioned man.”

Luke chuckled. “Oh yeah? How else are you old-fashioned?”

Din pulled back just a bit before reaching into his belt and pulling out a vibroblade, still in its sheath. At first glance, it wasn’t anything special — but Din knew better. He’d had this knife special-ordered at a weapons maker in Nal Hutta with a blood groove in its blade and an attachment to slide onto a blaster rifle to use as a bayonet. Out of all of his weapons, it was one of Din’s favorites. It also cost nearly a whole bounty’s worth of credits.

“It’s customary for a Mandalorian to present his beloved with a weapon out of their personal armory,” Din explained. “This is my best vibroblade. The sheath can be attached to either a belt or tucked inside a boot. It’s now yours.”

Luke looked genuinely surprised as he accepted the blade in his hands. “You know, Mandalorians the galaxy over would’ve torn each other to shreds to receive such a favor from the Mand’alor himself.”

“Then they can all fight you for it,” Din said. “I think I’d like to see them try.”

“You honor me, Din,” Luke said, returning the gesture with a soft kiss to Din’s cheek. “Thank you. I’ll keep it safe.”

“You deserve more, but it’s what I have after the loss of my ship,” Din said, nuzzling his nose against Luke’s cheek in return. “Should I find an Armorer, I’ll also get you something made of beskar. A mythosaur pendant? Maybe something with a Mudhorn on it? I think you’d look lovely in armor of some kind.”

It was Luke’s turn to pull away. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little more interested in this formal courtship idea than you let on.”

Din hadn’t thought that hard about it, but the moment the idea left Luke’s lips, he already knew he loved the idea — it’s what Luke himself said earlier in the day, after all. Din wanted to find as many ways to show Luke that he loved him, but if they could keep it just between themselves, then all the better. It seemed almost too good to be true.

“Would that be wrong?”

“I feel like I’ve been issued a challenge somehow,” Luke said as he turned the blade over, inspecting its craftsmanship. “Prepare yourself, Din Djarin — if you want an old-fashioned Mandalorian courtship, then that is what we’ll do. As long as it doesn’t interfere with our mission, then we’ll play this game.”

“Do your books tell you what Mandalorian courtship means?” asked Din. “Is that… are you alright with that?”

“What do you mean?” asked Luke.

“You’re so young and you could do so much better – “

“I am twenty-eight,” Luke retorted. “Only eight years younger than you. I won’t dignify your other point with a response.”

Groaning, Din shook his head. “This is so new, so soon.”

“For you, maybe,” Luke said.

“I’m a simple man, Luke – I don’t do subtleties,” said Din. “Are you sure about this?”

Din searched Luke’s face for any sort of hesitation. He found none.

“Are you?” Luke retorted.

Din leaned back in to kiss Luke once again, this time with all the feeling he could muster.

“I can’t imagine a world where I’d want anyone else,” Din said.

“Not even a more worthy Mandalor— “

Din cut him off with another kiss. “If I said it, I meant it.”

Luke only nodded in return. “Milord.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Only if you tell me what you were going to tell me earlier,” said Luke.

Din sighed, stepping away from Luke and giving the both of them room to breathe. He almost didn’t want to broach the topic — Luke had an uncanny ability to find the worst times to change the subject — but Din only had himself to blame here.

“I wanted to talk to you about how you reacted to hearing that we’re going to meet the people that the Hidden Path saved.”

“You’re very perceptive,” Luke said, his face falling just a little.

“Talk to me.”

Luke sighed. “Truth be told, I don’t know if I can rightfully face all those people and declare that I’m bringing back the Jedi Order — especially with my last name. Who am I to give these people hope? What if they don’t believe in the Order anymore?”

“I think if anyone should understand that you’re not your father, it should be other Jedi,” Din said. “Besides, if I have to stand up in front of my people as a leader while being a non-royal, unaffiliated Mandalorian foundling, I think you can stand proudly in front of yours despite the weight of your name. If they don’t like the Order, they don’t have to follow. Wasn’t it the same with the old Order?”

“It’s not fair when you’re right,” said Luke. “I can’t pretend that I’m walking into completely friendly territory, but maybe it won’t be so bad.”

“You’ll have all of us there,” Din said. “Besides, Ahsoka Tano believes in your ability to lead. She told me herself. You didn’t mention you were Grandmaster, by the way — surely your people should respect that.”

“Ah,” Luke said as he turned away. “That’s so grandiose. I don’t even have a Council. I’m the king of a nation of one.”

“It’s not about being modest, it’s about accepting the trust you’ve inherited,” Din said as he closed the distance between them and placed a small kiss on Luke’s forehead. “I think you’ve said as much to me.”

“It’s also not fair when you use my words and sentiments against me,” Luke said.

Din smiled. “You’re going to have so many people rallying around you, you won’t know what to do with them all,” he said. “Besides, if it all goes pear-shaped, we’ll beat up the red-haired Jedi and take the kid before going to Mandalore.”

Luke laughed in turn. “If you say so. Go to bed, already — we have a long day tomorrow.”

“Good night, cyare,” Din said, testing out the Mando’a on his tongue. It wasn’t common for him to use anymore, nor had he ever used that term for anyone else. It felt right, though — maybe it wasn’t common in his day-to-day parlance, but that’s what made it special.

“Jate ca, ner cyare,” Luke replied as Din walked back out of Luke’s quarters.

It took too long for Din to remember that Luke had wished him a good night. He made a mental note to borrow some of Luke’s books on Mando’a to brush up on his own language skills. He kicked himself for remembering more Tusken signs and vocalizations than words from his own culture.

But that was a problem for another time. Tomorrow, he’d get to see his kid and that meant more than any stupid mission.

Beyond that, he had Luke’s promise to think about — if Luke genuinely understood what Din meant, that had far greater consequences to this little affair of theirs, and Din’s mind spun with the possibilities.

The future seemed altogether so frightening and thrilling, and come tomorrow, he’d face whatever it would bring.

It was hard for Din to fall asleep, but when the next day came, he felt about as awake as ever. Today was the day, and he felt ready to crawl out of his skin with excitement.

He’d made it to the galley and made caf for the entire crew, long before anyone else even managed to crawl out of bed. By the time Cobb and Boba — the two earliest risers aside from Luke — made it to the mess room, Din had already set an assortment of pastries and rolls out on the main table.

Through the thin door of the galley, Din could hear Cobb asking Boba what was going on.

“Let him have this,” Boba said, his voice low. “He’s excited. Besides, His Majesty made us food — not every day a king makes you coffee.”

“I hope it’s better than the muck he made back when we were out in the Wastes hunting that krayt,” Cobb muttered.

Din felt a little wounded. He’d brewed the caf with black melon water that day, but it was the best he could do under the circ*mstances.

“I’m sure it’s fine. But if it isn’t, you can always put enough cream that it won’t matter.” said Boba.

Cobb and Boba broke out into laughter just as Din entered the mess hall with his final plate of pancakes and a carafe of jogan fruit juice. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel offended or not.

“Thanks much, Din,” Cobb said as he took a mug from a nearby cabinet. “This is a real nice spread you’ve got here.”

“It’s very appreciated,” Boba agreed.

Din reached for the cream on the table and placed it in front of Boba. “Just in case you need it,” Din huffed.

Cobb and Boba began laughing so loud that it sounded more like cackling to his ears. He didn’t have to listen to any of this, he realized. He took a cup of his own, poured himself some caf, and grabbed a pastry. He took off for the bridge to enjoy his breakfast in silence.

He swore never to do such a gesture again. He tried not to curse himself out for scorching his tongue on his too-hot caf.

It was going to be a long day.

When the navcomputer alarm went off, the entire crew scrambled from the various areas around the ship to meet on the bridge. Fennec took her usual spot at the weapons station, while Bo-Katan and Boba took the helm as co-pilots. Din sat in a navigator’s chair, which gave him ample opportunity to observe the two of them working together. He remembered when they first met — how tense the air was, how deep their enmity ran — and wondered where those versions of them went.

Paz and Cobb took over the comms suite and the operations panels. Ahsoka stood behind them, ready to take the lead whenever they made contact. Luke took the captain’s chair in the center of the bridge, keeping an eye on the screens in front of him. Din felt grateful that Luke had control of the ship — while Din loved piloting much smaller ships, learning to operate something of this size held no real interest for him.

“Prepare for deceleration in five, four, three, two — “

As the blinding streaks of light faded away from view, the Koboh system at once appeared through the viewport. To their left, Din saw the planet of Koboh — an average, mid-sized habitable planet. To their right, he noticed what appeared to him to be a shattered satellite — a moon or an asteroid, he couldn’t tell. The thing that worried him the most, however, was the massive nebula in front of them. That must be the Koboh Abyss, he figured.

“Alright, patch me in,” Ahsoka said, handing over the datastick for Paz to plug into the comms dashboard. A few movements and buttons later, a voice crackled over the bridge’s loudspeaker.

“We acknowledge receipt of the correct access codes,” the voice announced. “State your ship name, purpose of visit, and your crew manifest.”

“This is the Tantive IV, a New Republic vessel,” Luke responded. “We’re here on business with a certain red-haired man that rescued a Mandalorian youngling a number of months ago. We have eight crewmembers on board right now.”

“We’re going to need more information, Captain,” the voice said. “I need a manifest of names, starting with yours. We also need to know how many Force-sensitives you have on board.”

“This is Luke Skywalker, Grandmaster of the Jedi Order,” he began. Din smiled underneath his helmet. “I can give you the rundown of the rest of the crew, but I think you’re stalling for time. If I need to speak to someone higher up your chain of command, I suggest you get them now.”

The other side’s mic remained hot, letting the crew listen in on their hurried whispers and shuffling of chairs. A hiss of static came over the intercom once more.

“Hey, how do I know this is the Luke Skywalker?” a new voice demanded. “Is this really the man that blew up two Death Stars?”

“I can give you my chain code, but if you want to turn on your holoprojector, that will also work,” Luke said. “Besides, I only blew up one. My friends blew up the other one after I’d taken out the Emperor and Darth Vader. So, are we authorized to enter Tanalorr space?”

Din knew that was only mostly true, but he wasn’t going to out Luke for padding the legend a little. Besides, who else would call him a liar? As far as he knew, the only other people that might know the truth only exist out in the Force.

That, and Din had to admit that he found Luke’s confidence attractive. Authority looked good on him.

“Ha!” the voice shouted. “Come on through. Even if you’re lying, I gotta meet you. What business do you have with the red-haired Jedi, by the way?”

“He saved the King of Mandalore and his child, Grogu,” Luke said. “That king is back to see them both.”

“You have Grogu’s dad there?!” the voice shouted, nearly blaring the speaker out. “You should’ve said so sooner! We’ll send you the coordinates for the landing pad; be careful on the way in. It’s a little bumpy, but you’ll be fine. Fly fast!”

The comms cut out after that. Suddenly, as though a switch flipped, multiple beams of light erupted from various points across Koboh and its shattered satellite and converged onto the Abyss in front of them. After a few moments, the pure, concentrated energy opened up a perfectly crafted wormhole that ran straight into the nebula. Through the portal, Din could already see intense amounts of space debris and electrical discharge firing off. He suddenly understood what the man meant.

“Whenever you’re ready, Helm,” Luke said. “Everyone else, brace yourselves — I think this might suck a little.”

Bo-Katan bore down on the engine power, propelling the ship forward into the portal. The moment they crossed the threshold, shades of blue and purple dust overtook the viewport, obscuring much of the path forward. Lightning flashed at random intervals — he figured the dust created so much static that it had to discharge somewhere. Unfortunately, somewhere was right in front of them. Din braced himself on the nearest panel.

“f*ck these asteroids,” Fennec muttered. “Permission to fire on incoming debris, Captain?”

“Granted,” Luke said. “Low power fire, short bursts — just enough to break them apart, not enough to hit the other side of the portal.”

“Aye-aye,” Fennec responded. “Laying down cover fire now.”

Short bursts of laser fire emerged from a cannon somewhere underneath the bridge. Din felt useless just sitting there.

“I’m heading to the ball turret gun,” Din said. “I can cover anything from our rear.”

“Please don’t,” Luke said. “I can’t risk you getting struck with any debris on the underside. Can you calculate the amount of time we have before we get to the end of the wormhole?”

Din nodded. He turned to his panel, which fed him an endless stream of information — only a few numbers that seemed relevant. He calculated their current distance from the readout on the screen that told them their relative distance from the entrance of the wormhole and the visual estimates of the reading. Doing some quick math in his head, and controlling for the amount of debris in the area, he had a good guess.

“If we can make it in a straight line? We can cross in about two minutes from now,” Din announced. “If we keep having to dodge debris, closer to five. I don’t know how long the tunnel will remain stable, so we might need to move faster than that.”

“Try making it closer to two as much as you can,” said Paz. “The shields are holding, but it’s not great.”

“Din, take the console,” Luke said, standing up from the command chair. “I’m going to try something stupid.”

“Stupid is what we trade in,” Din said, moving quickly to take the chair. “Do what you must.”

“Just try not to get us killed, Skywalker?” Boba bit out as he pulled the yoke on the controls up hard and the ship pitched upwards. A brilliant flash of light sparked hard across the viewport, narrowly missing the bridge.

“I’ll do my best,” Luke said as he approached the helm.

Closing his eyes, Luke stretched out one hand ahead of him while clutching onto the back of Bo-Katan’s chair. He took a deep breath. Din held onto the arms of the chair and waited.

At first, it looked as though the asteroids and hunks of debris simply floated away. Then, as he watched one float close to the viewport, Din saw a large rock bounce away from the bow. If Din had to guess, he’d say that Luke created a shield around the ship.

He wasn’t sure how that worked, but then again, he watched Luke close a tear in space-time and walk through the air as though it were made of rock. Trying to figure out anything that Luke did was like flying into the center of a star — impossible and foolish to attempt.

“Full speed ahead!” Din ordered. “Shift all power to the engines if necessary!”

Bo-Katan threw the engine power throttle all the way forward, and Din felt himself get thrown back into his chair a little. Luke, however, remained eerily still. Distantly, he could hear the whine of the jet propulsion system as they screamed through the tunnel. The final portal was only moments away.

“Hold onto your asses,” Bo-Katan said. “Prepare yourselves for whatever’s on the other side.”

Suddenly, they found themselves in calmer space, the silence and the stillness almost unsettling. The wormhole collapsed behind them, leaving just a scar of light in the void. Din noticed Luke dropping his arm down and taking a deep sigh. The rest of the crew joined him in pure relief.

Ahead, the planet in front of them looked like a gem suspended in a sea of clouds, the water a dark blue and the land masses a violet so pale and unsaturated it was nearer a grey. Din couldn’t think of another place he’d ever been that looked quite like this — it felt magical, almost. Even if the planet hadn’t been hidden behind a nebula, Din understood what attracted the Jedi to Tanalorr.

The Tantive IV entered the atmosphere without incident. The navcomputer, using the coordinates provided, led them straight to an unnamed settlement. Surprisingly, the crew didn’t exchange a single word — perhaps out of anticipation for some new complication, perhaps out of sheer wonder. Through the viewport, Din could see the sheer beauty of the planet — the large, light-bleached mountains, the rolling hills of endless white grass, and the trees that glowed with that soft violet light that he recognized all the way from space. The creeks and ponds seemed to be made of crystal, even from their distance. It seemed to Din as though this was a constructed reality rather than a real place. He almost wondered if they died in that wormhole, and this was the afterlife.

The settlement itself surprised Din — he expected a few low-lying buildings, maybe a ship caravan. The giant temple that appeared around the crest of a ridgeline looked like someone plucked it off of Coruscant and placed it right in the middle of the mountains. Beautifully carved out of the same white stone, it loomed over the valley, regal and silent. Din knew nothing of Jedi culture, but it seemed like only people that walked with the power of gods could make such a thing.

Reaching a platform, Bo-Katan and Boba worked to set the ship down as gently as possible. Hardly waiting for anyone to catch up with him, Din left the bridge and practically raced towards the main portal of the ship. Someone with more mental presence activated the bay door and the gangplank for him before he even reached it. He could hear Luke, Ahsoka, and Fennec behind him but Din couldn’t wait.

He had waited for so long. It was time.

Walking down the gangplank, Din watched as a number of people filed out of the temple’s doors. From their disposition, they seemed friendly — at least, no one seemed too pissed off about their presence yet. At the front of the group, Din spotted him: the red-haired Jedi with the scar on his nose. He held a little pile of something in his arms.

“Welcome to Tanalorr!” the man shouted, his stride unbroken as he made his way to the landing pad. “Glad to see you made it in one piece! The little guy was worried about you!”

The little pile in the Jedi’s arms moved. A familiar pair of ears peeked out of the folds, and Din felt something in his chest snap right back into place.

“Patu!”